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THE LITTLE ANIMAL SPRANG TO THE EXTENDED HAND 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


H Storg for ©iris 


MRS. EVELYN RAYMOND 

Author of “The Little Lady of the Horse,” “Among the 
Lindens,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY IDA WAUGH 



THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 


PHILADELPHIA MDCCCXCIX 






39464 

Copyright 1899 by The Penn Publishing Company 


TWO COPIES PECHIVEO, 



A?)**) V B- 


f 


/ 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

I Old Israel and Jean 7 

II An Afternoon’s Fun . • 19 

III A Mishap 36 

IV The End of a Life 47 

V Why the Doctor Did Not Come 60 

VI Two Strange Encounters 71 

VII At the Doctor’s House 79 

VIII Angelta Parthenia Todd 92 

IX Reading the Letter 99 

X A Midnight Burial 114 

XI Peterkin and His Cryptogram 124 

XII The Meeting by the Bowlders 135 

XIII The Price of a Breakfast 147 

XIV The Tell-Tale Mark 159 

XV An Unlucky Jest 172 


5 


6 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

XVI Flights and Falls 185 

XVII The End and the Beginning of a Service . . . 197 

XVIII The House in Palatial Avenue 211 

XIX The Aunts Montgomery 222 

XX Angelia Pays a Visit 234 

XXI Whisker in an Animal Boarding-House .... 247 

XXII The Shadom' of a Disgrace 258 

XXIII Surprises 271 

XXIV Jean’s Discovery 284 

XXV To What the Key Led 295 

XXVI Conclusion— More. Wonderful Than Fiction . . 309 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


CHAPTER I 

OLD ISKAEL AND JEAN 

Jeanie r' 

There came no response to the querulous, 
really feeble summons which floated out of the 
cabin doorway to waste itself upon the stiff 
October gale, then blowing through the moun- 
tain pass. 

Jean ! Jean-nie 

A faint echo of this second cry did penetrate 
to the glen where the girl who had been called 
was gathering nuts and making, by the tossing 
of the dead leaves upon the ground, sufficient 
noise to drown her grandfather’s voice ; even 
without the additional racket of the wind which 
blew, at that moment, as if all the fury of a 

7 


8 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


dozen storms had been concentrated in this one 
outburst. 

Hark ! Whisk, he^s calling us ! Come !” 

Hastily gathering the neck of her canvas bag 
in one hand, Jean Wilder held out the other 
for the red squirrel who had been sitting on the 
limb of a tree above her head and watching her 
operations with his bright, intelligent eyes. 
The little animal now sprang to the extended 
hand and raising her pet to her lips the nut- 
gatherer bestowed upon the dainty little head a 
fond caress ; then darted forward toward the 
cabin at a pace almost as fleet as Whisk’s own 
might have been. 

“ Oh, Grandfather? Did the door blow open? 
How sorry I am ! Are you cold ? Are you — ” 
But a peculiar look about the wrinkled old face 
upon the poor pillow of the hard pallet startled 
her and she ceased speaking to advance on tip- 
toe to the old man’s side. 

‘‘Grand — fath— er!” she called, slowly, 
frightened almost speechless by the sight she 
beheld. The eyes had rolled upward and back- 
ward into their sockets, the lips were purple, 
and the jaw fallen, the hands clenched in the 
rigidity of a spasm, and the whole appearance 


OLD ISRAEL AND JEAN 


9 


of the figure upon the couch would have told 
a more experienced person than Jean that 
this eighty-year-old recluse was at the ex- 
tremity of life. 

But Jean knew nothing of death; and she 
had often seen her aged relative in some such 
plight as this ; though never had he looked so 
awfully ashen and tetrible. She fiew to the 
little cupboard on the wall and took from 
thence a small vial containing what her grand- 
father called his heart mixture/’ and poured 
out a small quantity into the broken tumbler 
which had held the vial, then hurried to hold 
it to the old sufferer’s lips. 

Grandfather ! Oh, Grandfather ! Can’t you 
— won’t you take it ? Do — do ! It will ease the 
terrible pain ! It will — it must ! Please try !” 

The flying about the room of the squirrel. 
Whisk, was the only sound which came in 
answer. Then instinct taught the girl what to 
do. Raising the motionless head upon her arm 
she dropped the medicine, bit by bit, down the 
already stiffening throat , and so powerful was 
it that in a few seconds the set muscles relaxed, 
and the weak heart made one more effort to 
resume its work. 


10 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


‘‘There, there! Dear Grandfather! You 
are better! I see it, I know it! Oh, how 
glad I am ! And so sorry, so sorry that I 
went away at all. But, you see, I thought we 
should need the nuts before spring, and if I 
left them, the bad village boys would have 
them all. And the fallen leaves and the 
wind — ’’ 

Bang! went the rickety shutter, wrenched 
at last from its broken fastening and thrown 
violently to the rocks before the cabin door. 

“ My, how it does blow !’’ cried poor Jean, 
for almost the first time in her life feeling an 
oppression of fear which she could not under- 
stand. 

But the noise of the falling shutter outdid 
that of the gale, and it roused the sick man 
to a sense of his surroundings. His feeble 
mind began to work at exactly the point 
where it had ceased when he swooned, and 
he called again, in fretful, broken tones, 
“ Jean ! Jean !’’ 

“Here am I, dear Grandfather! Are you 
better ? Can I help you 

The long, claw-like hand was raised in pro- 
test. “ Hush ! I — I — there is something — 


OLD ISRAEL AND JEAN 


11 


The key — oh, my head ! What is it I want to 
say, eh ! Jean, child 

Is it something about a key. Grandfather ? 
What key is it ? Where is it ? Do you want 
it?’^ 

A strange, cynical look rose in old Israel 
Wilder’s face. The word key,” which he 
had been the first to speak, conveyed to him, 
from the lips of another, but one idea — his 
treasure ! whereof the key ” held the secret. 

No, no !” he exclaimed, with an energy that 
seemed more astonishing by contrast with his 
former lifelessness. ‘‘No, I want no keys — I ! 
Do you think I am dying, Jean? Who told 
you I was dying, girl ? Answer me that. It is 
not so !” 

“ Why — nobody. Grandfather ! Why should 
you think anybody did?” cried the other, find- 
ing the unrecognized fear of her own heart 
thus put into words by the threatened man 
himself. 

“ Nobody ! Nobody, child ! I dreamed it. 
The elixir, the heart-mixture, it outwits even 
the old Spectre himself. Eh, Jean ? I — 
what are you staring at ?” 

“ Staring, dear, was I ? I did not mean it !” 


12 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


and instantly this lonely, strangely neglected 
girl began to talk of her outing in the glen and 
to withdraw her relative’s disordered mind from 
dwelling upon a subject which always made him 
wild. Nobody had taught her this, but the 
quick, womanly sympathy of her noble nature 
had led her to wisdom. Gradually the fierce 
light died from the faded eyes of the old man, a 
faint flush of returning vitality dyed his yellow 
cheeks, and he moved restlessly upon his hard 
pillow as if he had again become conscious of 
his uncomfortable surroundings, and fretted by 
them. 

“ Wait, dear ; I’ll fix it for you ! Let me see ; 
what can I find to put under it to make it higher ? 
Oh, I know ! Soft pine boughs. They’re just 
the very thing. Since I’ve been sleeping on 
them I have rested so well. I’ll bring a fresh 
lot in a jiffy/’ and out into the wind she ran 
again, her torn, thin frock letting its cutting 
breath nip her delicate limbs blue with cold. 
But she paid no attention to that every-day mat- 
ter, and in five minutes returned to the poor 
abode with her arms full of spicy boughs. These 
she put beneath the one print-covered 23illow, 
and the altered position appeared to give Mr. 


OLD ISRAEL AND JEAN 


13 


Wilder considerable ease. His faint breathing 
grew gradually stronger and stronger, till at the 
end of another half-hour he was able to sit up 
on the edge of his straw-filled pallet and lean 
his back against the prop of pine boughs which 
Jean’s deft fingers arranged for him. 

“ A capable child you are, granddaughter. 
And a good thing for you. Those who have 
wit need little money. Let it be the rule of 
your life, Jean Wilder, to use as little money 
as will suffice the plainest needs. Money — 
money — money — is — is everything ! Is every- 
thing, child !” The advice ended in a shrill 
cry that set the girl’s heart beating with fresh 
anxiety. She had never seen her grandfather 
just like this. 

‘‘Yes, dear,” she said, soothingly. “You 
have been telling me that all my life, and I am 
not apt to forget it. Anyway I do not like the 
stuff. You say it is that which makes all the 
trouble, too, as well as does all the good in the 
world. Why, then, should I desire it ? What 
need have I of it here in the forest ? If there is 
just enough to buy food for you and a little meal 
for my own porridge — what more can I want ?” 
And in her brown bare feet this strange maiden 


14 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


began to skip about as gayly upon the rough 
floor of the cabin as though her nimble toes 
were encased in silken shoes. 

Old man Wilder laughed. The most self- 
controlled person may have still his weakness 
somewhere, and the odd weakness of this 
old miser had been his love of grace and 
beauty. 

‘‘ Ah, step it lively, lass ! Do your best ! 
Yet never one in all the great city could pass 
the handsome Beau Wilder, once, when these 
old legs were young ! But — food. You men- 
tioned food, my dear. Bring it to me. Bring 
it at once 

Jean paused suddenly, and a look of per- 
plexity overspread her merry face. What 
must it be. Grandfather ? Will a bit of meal- 
porridge do 

Meal-porridge, indeed ! No, it will not do. 
I must have flesh — flesh — flesh — to feed my 
wasting flesh ! You know that, Jean Wilder ; 
yet you ask me if ‘ porridge ’ will answer ! 
Porridge is for babes — ’’ then suddenly recol- 
lecting himself, he added — ‘‘and for slips of 
girls who do nothing all day but trifle in the 
forest, trapping birds and other wild things. 


OLD ISKAEL AND JEAN 


15 


Flesh, I tell you ! Flesh — the more the 

better.” 

By accident, or design, the old man’s eye 
fixed itself upon the playful Whisk, gambolling 
about the narrow cabin as contentedly and 
looking as well-fed as if he had been reared in 
a palace — Whisk, Jean’s one beloved play- 
fellow. 

With an indignant fiash of her dark eyes, 
and a nimbleness which matched Whisk’s own, 
she darted forward, caught up the little red 
squirrel and hid him in the bosom of her 
ragged frock. Then she turned fiercely upon 
her grandfather, looking for the moment like 
anybody rather than the hitherto gentle-faced 
girl who had been so solicitous about the old 
man’s welfare. 

No ! You need not look at him like 
that. Grandfather Wilder ! I am willing to go 
hungry myself, but don’t you dare to touch my 
Whisk ! I catch and trap, indeed, but not for 
idleness ! To sell the poor, caged creatures 
whose hearts I break that you may eat the 
detested ‘ flesh ’ you crave so much. Now, I 
will look in the cupboard once more, but I 
know beforehand that all your own food is gone. 


16 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


You were eating the last of it yesterday, you 
know, and I was going down into the village 
for more, when you heard men hunting in the 
wood and dared not let me leave you. There 
is porridge, as I told you ; a little bit. And — ” 

Flesh — flesh — I must have flesh ! Go — go 
at once !” 

‘‘ Will you give me some of the money to 
buy it with 

Money ? I have no money, child ! Why 
do you think an old recluse like me can have 
that one precious thing — money whined the 
invalid. 

Because when I sell the birds and squirrels 
I know how much I get for them. I never 
spend anything except what you command me 
to pay for your food, and so I reckon how 
much there must be left. If you will give me 
some of that I brought back last week I need 
not wait to try to sell anything to-day.’’ 

“Hm — m. I know what that means. A 
longer life for the silly things you have cap- 
tured. Well, I can expect nothing different. 
Ingratitude is the return I have always met 
and always shall. Though I took you and have 
brought you up, when you just might as well 


OLD ISRAEL AND JEAN 


17 


have gone to the poor-liouse and cost me noth- 
ing. Nothing ! And now you care more for 
the animals in the wood than for your poor old 
grandfather !” 

Jean waited to hear no more. She was by 
no means faultless, and she had never been 
taught that one need ever control anger. All 
that she had acquired of wisdom had come to 
her by sorrowful experience ; and she ran out 
of the cabin, now, as fast as she could go, 
though her bright eyes filled with tears and 
she clasped her two hands with loving pressure 
upon the little squirrel nestling within the torn 
gown. 

You know as well as I do. Whisker dear, 
that when my grandfather begins on that sub- 
ject there is no use in waiting for him to finish. 
What have I cost him, I should like to know ! 
Blit — no use ! The pretty pair of woodpeckers 
must go ! Let’s be as quick as we can about it 
and get it over with. Besides, if he doesn’t 
have his horrible ^ flesh — flesh ’ soon he’ll be 
wild and terrible again. Dear Whisk! He shall 
never have you ! Never — never — never I” 

As if he understood and wished to assure her 
that he did, the gentle little animal who had 
2 


18 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


resigned freedom for captivity and Jean’s 
affection, crept up under her chin and settled 
himself to go to sleep. 

Not this time, small sir ! I dare not take 
you with me any more down there among those 
dreadful village boys. Don’t you remember 
that the last time I did they nearly caught you ? 
No ; into your safe,, safe nest here in the rocks, 
where nobody can ever find you, I will put you 
till I come back ! In with you, dear ! And 
good-by for a little while !” 

Into a cosy nest made in the hollow of a great 
bowlder Whisker was accordingly thrust, then 
the opening secured, and Jean turned sorrow- 
fully away to perform her hateful task. 



CHAPTER II 

AN afternoon’s FUN 

Here she comes ! Here conies my ‘ Lady 
Barefoot !’ Now let’s have some fun !” 

So cried the leader of the “ bad set ” among 
the village lads, as Jean appeared at the 
entrance to the town, carrying her home-made 
wicker cages of woodland captives. 

Oh, let her alone, for once, fellows ! What’s 
the use of tormenting even a girl, forever !” 

Hi ! Jim Saxton, turned coward all of a 
sudden ?” 

‘‘ No. But I read a story the other day that 
set me thinking. I — ” 

‘‘ Quit it ! No preaching !” 

Who wants to preach ? Preaching yourself 
every time you get a chance !” 

Say that again and I’ll lick you !” 

“ Can’t do it !” 


19 


20 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


What’ll you bet ?” 

Ain’t betting nowadays. Just try it ; that’s 
all the odds I ask !” 

At which Jerry Jones responded with such a 
scientific blow that Jim’s fighting blood rose 
in a minute. At it they went, rough-and-tumble, 
through the dust which a long drought had 
made several inches deep, and over the railing 
of the little foot-bridge into the bed of the 
stream that was now dry but rock-strewn enough 
to make a fall thereon perilous. 

Who thought of that ? Not these two valiant 
heroes of a hundred battles, till Jim’s head 
struck with a sharper crack than common upon 
one of the keen-edged stones, and lay there so 
still that Jerry had an excellent o^^portunity to 
give the promised licking ” without even a 
slight return of hostilities. Jerry had almost 
exhausted his wrath when it occurred to him 
that this was an unusual state of things. 

Hi, Jim ! Why don’t you hit back ? Who’s 
a coward now ?” 

No reply forthcoming, not even the smothered 
growl which a belligerent boy gives when his 
mouth is in the dirt, Jerry sprang up and re- 
garded his fallen foe dubiously. Call that a 


AN afternoon’s FUN 


21 


fight ? That’s a reg’lar give in and knock under. 
I ain’t built to do my business that way. Get 
up and come back into the road ; I’ll give you 
first odds !” 

Even these mingled taunts and cajolings failed 
to rouse the prostrate victim, and Jerry stooped 
down and turned Jim over on his back. Then 
an outcry arose that echoed far down the high- 
way, and brought more than one anxious 
mother hurrying to her door to see if it 
were her especial hopeful ” who had come 
to grief. 

The other boys, a half-dozen in number, 
bounded into the creek-bed and stooped above 
poor Jim, who, despite his occasional lapses into 
preachiness,” was a great favorite. 

My eye, Ked-top ! You’ve killed him I” 
Oh, my scissors ! Jerry Jones, I wouldn’t 
be in your shoes for a gold mine ! He’s as dead 
as ‘ old Gunner !’ You’ll swing for this — you 
bet !” 

'^Aint dead, either !” retorted poor, terrified 
Jerry, as firmly as his trembling lips would let 
him, but agonized beyond expression at sight of 
that familiar face so white under the blood 
stains, and the ugly-looking little pool which 


22 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


had settled under the injured boy’s teruj^le, 
about the cruel rock that had gashed it. 

Jean had paused also at her first glimpse 
of her tormentors, who regularly persecuted her 
on account of her caged birds and squirrels 
whenever she came into the village to dispose 
of them, and who envied her the regular mar- 
ket she had found in the penchant which rich 
Mr. Disney had for these same pretty creatures. 

Oh, dear ! I suppose it is of no use ever 
trying to escape them ! How I do hate a boy ! 
And I don’t see as they are a bit better when 
they are men ! Grandfather, now — there it 
goes ! ‘ Lady Barefoot !’ Oh, why won’t they 

let me alone !” 

Thus much had fiashed through the girl’s 
troubled mind when she saw the advancing 
crowd halt to gaze upon what was even more in- 
teresting to the boyish sight than squirrels — the 
fight between the two ‘‘jays,” or “ J’s,” as Jim 
and Jerry were denominated. 

But now again that natural womanliness of 
hers made her quicker to see the peril of the 
boy on the creek-bed than his comrades had 
been, and before they knew it she, also, had 
leaped down among the startled youngsters, and 


AN afternoon's FUN 


23 


was flinging them right and left with her strong 
young arms. 

Out of the way, here ! Now you've about 
killed him — don't try to finish him by smoth- 
ering ! Water ! Bring it quick — quick ! In 
somebody's hat !" 

Every boy flew to obey, and they consequently 
tumbled over each other as much as possible, 
thereby delaying the draught which might save 
life. Meanwhile Jean had looked frantically 
about her own person for something with which 
to bandage the injured lad's temple. Alas! 
So poor a garb as Lady Barefoot's " had 
nothing to spare, even for such a need as 
this. 

Hold ! Has it not ! Or if not her own 
clothing, perhaps, yet the stout strap which 
supported her cages upon her shoulders would 
be just the thing ! 

‘‘ Here ! Some of you lend me a knife. Or 
cut the strap yourselves I We must bind up 
his head right away !" 

Instantly all the lads returned from their 
confused search after water, and proceeded 
with equal zeal and as little discretion to hinder 
each other in cutting the strap. Several fingers 


24 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


were gashed during the operation, but nobody 
thought of that. 

Now — the water ! Where is it 

Oh — the water — who had it ? 

Nobody. 

Up sprang Jean, with a defiant look of 
intensest scorn, and seized the hat of the first 
boy with whose head her indignant fingers 
came in contact. Off she ran, and in a brief 
space was back with a capful of the precious 
fluid, which her keen eye had observed where 
her duller-witted assistants had seen none. 

Somebody, a trifle less obtuse than the rest, 
cried: ‘‘I say, ‘Lady Barefoot!’ Your own 
foot’s bleeding awful I” 

“ What of it?” 

“ Why — why — I thought, maybe, you didn’t 
know it !” 

“I didn’t. I don’t care. He’s breathing 
again. See?” 

Every boyish head dropi:)ed at one and the 
same instant to gaze upon the slowly-opening 
eyes of their fallen comrade, and collided in 
one hard bunch — ker-thump ! Then they 
rebounded, with equal suddenness, and Jean 
laughed. 


AN AFTEKNOOn’s FUN 


25 


Such a laugh ! There was no resisting its 
influence, and even the maddest boy of the 
whole lot gradually relaxed the severity of his 
would-be-dignifled countenance and joined in 
the peal with all his might. 

AVell, boy ; youhe better, aren’t you ? I 
reckon the next time you fight it won’t be 
on the edge of a bridge !” exclaimed Jeaii, 
pleased to see her patient regaining his 
senses. 

Jim smiled, and tried to sit up ; but a dread- 
ful dizziness overcame him, and he would have 
dropped back upon the rock once more if his 
late assailant had not interjDosed one grimy 
jacket-sleeve between the injured head and the 
stony pillow. 

I wouldn’t ha’ pounded you so hard, but I 
thought you was ’fraid, and didn’t dast to fight 
back,” explained the remorseful Jerry, who, 
mischievous though he was, had a pretty good 
heart of his own. “ Hope you’ll give me 
another chance to lick you — on the square.” 

‘‘ I — I guess I’m licked enough,” replied 
Jim. ^‘But next time you torment anybody 
what can’t help himself, even if she is an old, 
barefoot girl out of a shanty. I’ll be ready for 


26 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


you ! So, there !” Though beaten, Jim was 
warlike still. 

Sh-h-h 

Sh-h-h, yourselves ! What^s the matter 
with you ?” 

She’s here. The girl you fought for.” 

‘‘ Didn’t fight for no girl. Fought for the 
princerple o’ the thing. Hate all girls. Hate 
’em like poison. Hate that old ‘ Barefooter ’ 
worse ’an any of ’em, ’cause she catches every 
squirrel there is in the woods here. Wish she’d 
die or clear out. Still, I think it’s mighty 
small potatoes to yell at her and scare the life 
out of her that way, like we’ve been doin’, 
’cause I heard somethin’ about her the other 
day that makes me think if she’d only been a 
boy she’d ’a’ been a brick.” 

Jean had retreated beyond the range of 
Jim’s vision, but not beyond the sound of his 
voice, and with some curiosity had waited to 
hear how he would talk when he came to him- 
self. Anger noAV made her forget her fear ; and 
she advanced among the lads from whom she 
had not shrunk when they were in trouble, but 
who again seemed enemies, now that the trouble 
was past. 


AN afternoon’s FUN 


27 


“You did, did you? You mean, contempti- 
ble boy ! What did you hear about me ? Tell 
me that !” 

Jean’s sudden appearance startled Jim so 
that for a moment his ready tongue failed to 
answer at his command ; but he quickly re- 
gained his assurance. 

“ I heard you sold birds and things to buy 
food for your stingy old grandfather. And so 
I’m sorry I ever hooted you.” 

This was a handsome apology; and Jean 
hesitated between gratitude for it and indigna- 
tion at the aspersion of her guardian. 

“ Humph ! Well — but — I won’t be afraid 
of you any more, then ; and, say, you’re as pale 
as a ghost, yet. You’d better go home, if you 
have a home. Where do you live ?” 

“AVith my father, of course. How do I 
look?” 

“Yaller an’ bloody!” responded one of the 
lads, with unflattering frankness. 

“ Oh — h I Will I scare my mother ?” 

“You’d scare me if I were your mother,” 
said the girl. 

Some of the boys laughed at that, and Jean 
turned upon them promptly. 


28 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


You’d better help him to her, then, instead 
of teasing me.” 

Didn’t mean to tease you ; not that time. 
How do you make your cages ? Does the old 
man really make you sell the creatures you 
catch ? How you going to carry ’em now 
you’ve used up your strap ?” 

I’ll make out some way. Grandfather has 
to eat, does he not ? Oli, dear ! I forgot. He 
was awful sick, and I was to make all the haste 
I could!” 

‘^Well?” 

Take that hurt boy up first. I want to see 
if he can walk. I saw a man once, a wood- 
chopper, jammed up in the pass, and the others 
made a bed of branches and put him on it, and 
carried him down to the village that way. You 
might do it, too, if he can’t walk.” 

Hurrah ! Just the checker ! Come on, fel- 
lows 1 Let’s rig up the ambulance I Those big 
trees in old Dutton’s yard are the very things 
we need.” 

Few the incidents or accidents which could 
not furnish amusement for these young idlers, a 
comrade’s misfortune as good as another. All 
along the brook-side grew native cedars in 


AN AFTEKNOON S FUN 


29 


abundance, but nothing would suffice save the 
choice old spruce which, for half a century, had 
been the delight of a childless couple, neither 
of whom was at home to prevent the dese- 
cration. 

Out came jack-knives once more, and each 
lad of the party, save Jim, fell upon one 
of the great boughs with a vigor that soon 
brought it to the ground, and ruined forever the 
once perfect pyramid of green. Never a branch 
or twig had been cut before, but these young 
vandals did not care for that, nor pause to ask 
what the reckoning might be. 

There ! I guess that will be enough. Lef s 
drag ’em to the bridge and lace ^em together 
there.’’ 

Ingenuity in accomplishing mischief aided 
the robbers, and a really very comfortable litter 
was soon prepared, upon which the shaky-kneed 
Jim was placed, amid the cheers of his mates. 

First class ! Couldn’t have done it better 
myself!” remarked the hero of the occasion, 
with grateful patronage. '' And, I say, just put 
the Barefooter’s cages up here, too. Then she 
won’t have so much trouble with ’em. You 
know I have her strap.” 


30 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


‘‘ All right ! Here they go !” and before 
Jean could protest, her three ‘‘ chippies and 
the pair of woodpeckers, in their rude cages, 
had been seized from her arms and tossed upon 
the ambulance/^ 

“ Hello ! Let’s play Jim’s a ‘ conquering 
hero,’ bound for the royal palace. We’re his 
brave generals, and ‘ Lady Barefoot ’ is a cap- 
tive queen. Hitch her on behind somewhere. 
That’ll make the thing complete !” 

Evidently, Jim was not in any dangerous con- 
dition of body, for he leaned eagerly over the 
edge of his royal ” litter, which rested upon 
the shoulders of four of his generals,” while 
the remainder of them attempted to put the 
last scheme into effect ; and his chivalry had 
suddenly vanished at the prospect of fresh 

fun.” 

‘‘You shall not! I will not be tied! Take 
that string off my wrist! Let me go — you 
hateful, hateful boys ! Give me back my birds 
and squirrels ! I’m not a captive ! I won’t be ! 
I’ll scream if you don’t stop ! Please, please 
don’t!” 

“ All right ! Scream away ! That’s the cor- 
rect thing for a captive queen to do. Jingo ! 


AN afternoon’s FUN 


31 


Aint this fun ?” retorted Jerry, binding the 
wrists of poor Jean behind her back with the 
fish-line another general’s ” pocket had fur- 
nished. 

Oh ! I wish I had let your hurt boy alone ! 
I’ll never do a single thing for any of you — never, 
never, never ! I was going to show you where 
the chestnuts are thick — but I — I — ” The 
captive’s entreaties were cut short by a second 
astonishing move on the part of her tormentors, 
for she was suddenly whirled around, and with 
another fish-line thong, which, also, was fastened 
to the waists of the hindmost “ bearers,” led 
backwards at the rear of this triumphal proces- 
sion of evil-doers. 

Her bare, bruised feet stumbled as she was 
forcibly dragged along, and the prickly needles 
of the spruce boughs stung her head and thinly 
covered shoulders so that she had to bend nearly 
double to avoid them. She opened her lips to 
scream, as she had threatened, then suddenly 
remembered that this was exactly what they 
had wished her to do, so refrained. No, I’ll 
not even moan — no matter ; I can die. If 
Grandfather is dying, too, I shall be glad. I 
wouldn’t care only for Whisker, the darling. 


32 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


He’d starve to death in that place where I shut 
him.” 

The thought nerved the tortured girl to new 
strength, and she became ominously silent, so 
silent that one of the generals ” returned to the 
rear to see what had befallen their prisoner 
of war,” and he had but just stooped to ^^^^r 
into the bent and angry face of ‘‘ My Lady Bare- 
foot,” when she gathered all her forces together, 
made an obstinate halt, and threw herself, face 
downward, into the dust of the street they were 
now traversing. 

“ Glory !” Ow-ouch-wow-wow !” ‘‘ Jingo !” 
‘‘ What — what’s this ?” 

Each boy uttered his own individual yell, as 
Jean’s strategem succeeded, and she j^ulled 
the bearers over backward, while the litter col- 
lapsed in the midst, when followed a general 
mingling of boys and branches, cracked skulls 
and chaos ! 

True, Jean herself had fallen beneath the 
whole pile, but anything had seemed better to 
her angry spirit than the posture she had been 
compelled to take, and she alone, of all the 
medley, had now not a word to say. 

Hello, here ! What’s all this row ?” 


AN AFTEKNOON’kS FUN 


33 


Cuff — slap — blow — push — thumj) ! 

One doughty brave was extricated from 
the jumble and tossed this way, another that, 
and, finally, the litter was removed from the 
figure of the prostrate captive by no less a per- 
sonage than the irate Squire Dutton himself. 

‘‘ What wickedness is this, you young rascals ? 
Can’t you find harm enough in your idle days 
without tormenting a poor, neglected little girl 
like old Wilder’s grandchild ? Thank Heaven — 
I never had a boy !” 

Then the old man stooped down, and, despite 
the stiffness of seventy-odd years, managed to 
lift the motionless Jean in his arms and look 
critically at her dust-covered face. 

Well, young sirs ! I reckon you’ve out- 
done yourselves this time ! You’ve stunned — 
or killed — the child ! See there !” 

They waited just long enough to see the 
Squire cut the thongs which bound “ Lady 
Barefoot’s ” wrists, and to observe how limply 
and uselessly her arms dropped to her sides; 
to notice that her eyes were closed, as Jim’s 
had been, when he struck the sharp stone, and 
then — they fled. 

Even Jim’s knees forgot their shakiness, and 
3 


34 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


only the two unfortunates, who were fastened 
by the unlucky fish-line attachment to the 
waist of their victims, remained to enjoy the 
full result of their afternoon’s entertainment. 

So, ho ! That’s it, is it ? Tied her so she 
couldn’t help herself? Lucky for her that I 
happened to he going home just now, or she’d 
have suffered even more. Here ! Don’t you 
scallawags stir foot to run ! I’ll have you 
arrested for assault ! I’m the Squire, I suppose 
you know. Lend a hand. This fine stretcher 
of yours is just the thing. I wonder how you 
made anything so shipshape ! Help me lift 
the child on it. Steady, now — she’s fainted ; 
for the first time in her life, most likely. Now, 
towards my house. Start along !” 

The retribution had come swiftly. The 
two boys, whom fate had thrown into Squire 
Dutton’s power, were made to help him carry 
the unconscious little mountaineer toward the 
old house at the head of the street. And now 
that they were in his actual presence, they 
remembered with fear and trembling the great 
store set by the Squire upon the old trees they 
had despoiled. 

But little did he realize that he was handling 


AN AFTEENOON S FUN 


35 


his own beloved spruce boughs till the party 
halted at his gate and the Squire lifted his 
eyes toward the house. 

Then one glance told him the whole story, 
and his amazement was so great that he nearly 
dropped his end of the litter. Yet the first 
feeling was rather grief than anger, and he 
turned upon the culprits with the cry : ^^You 
little scoundrels ! Is nothing sacred to you ? 
Neither the poor and innocent — nor even the 
helpless trees which an old man loves ?” 

But the anger followed swiftly on the grief. 
‘‘Forward! Into the house with you! We’ll 
get this child into some woman’s hands — and 
then — look out for yourselves !” 

Not a man grown, in all Chelsea village, but 
would have feared that ambiguous threat, 
hurled against him from the lips of the fierce- 
tempered, influential and vindictive old magnate. 
As for the pair of guilty boys, their feet seemed 
rooted to the floor in very terror. 

“ Look out for yourselves ! I will punish 
you, and all who were connected with you, to 
the fullest extent of the law !” 



CHAPTEE III 

A MISHAP 

As the party of boys scattered, after Squire 
Dutton appeared among them, another gentle- 
man came upon the scene. This was Doctor 
Disney, Jean’s patron, and a retired phy- 
sician, whose love of natural history had 
converted his spacious grounds into a home 
for all sorts of living creatures — not human. 
He lived alone with a few old servants, and 
spent all his time observing and writing 
about his four-footed, winged, and creeping 
favorites. 

Leisurely driving along in his old phaeton, 
drawn by a sleepy horse who was used to his 
master’s ways and to standing for interminable 
lengths at any spot in the field or wood, while 
the naturalist busied himself in long searches, 
the keen eye of the Doctor spied the overturned 
36 


A MISHAP 


37 


and deserted cages of squirrels and woodpeckers 
lying by the roadside. 

Heigho ! What’s this ? Whoa, Nan !” 

Nan obediently stopped and her owner clam- 
bered out of the vehicle. 

Hm — m! From the looks of the dust, there 
must have been some sort of upset or skir- 
mish here ! But these cages were never fash- 
ioned by any other fingers than those of my 
little mountain lass ! That I know. Softly, 
you poor frightened beauties ! You have fallen 
into good hands — fortunately for you. I trem- 
ble to think what would have been your fate if 
you had been seen by any rough and careless 
lads. I’m bound you were on the way to pay 
me a visit, anyhow ; so I’ll just take you along 
with me. But where can Jean be? I fancy 
I’d better follow this ^ trail ’ in the dust and see 
to what it leads !” 

Which he did and arrived at Squire Dutton’s 
house but a few moments after Jean had been 
carried into it. An intimate of the place. Doctor 
Disney walked through the open doorway with- 
out stopping to knock, and directly to the room 
where the frightened lads had been left with 
their victim while the master of the house 


38 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


went to summon some woman of the neighbor- 
hood. 

“ Hurrah, here ! What’s this ? Why, my poor 
little friend !” 

Down knelt the doctor and began to examine 
the motionless girl who still rested upon the 
litter of boughs. 

A faint ! Water — bring it, somebody !” 

I — I — dassent !” 

Why not ? then — I will !” Away sped the 
gentleman, and returned so soon that the wild 
idea of flight which had entered into the heads 
of the culprit-guardians was effectually ban- 
ished. Hm — m ! This looks like mischief, 
worse than ordinary. But — there ; she’s com- 
ing to. Well, my dear, here you are ! Bight 
with your old friend, the squirrel-man ! Ah ! 
Feel better? That’s good! That’s as it should 
be 1” 

Wh — at — what — has — happened ?” asked 
Jean, feebly. 

‘‘ Humph ! That’s exactly what I should like 
to know ! Here I come to pay a neighborly 
call and find you lying on a bit of your own 
green wood 1 But, no matter ; you’re all right 
now and the cages are safe in my carriage. 


A MISHAP 


39 


too. Now, young gentlemen, what does this 
mean ?” 

Strange how stern even a friendly voice can be- 
come sometimes ! Doctor Disney was the friend 
and confidant of all the young folks in Chelsea ; 
but Doctor Disney’s tones at that moment were 
not encouraging to the frightened lads before 
him. 

‘‘ It means that I’ve caught two members of the 
worst gang of young roughs in all this country !” 
answered a deep bass voice, and wheeling about 
the Doctor confronted the frowning countenance 
of his old friend, the Squire. Between the two 
gentlemen, while Jean recovered her strength 
and composure, all the incidents of the after- 
noon were fully elicited, and when the two cap- 
tives saw that not only their own names but 
those of all their comrades who had run away, 
were written down upon a legal-looking docu- 
ment, they trembled still more. 

Now, you scamps can go home. I will 
attend to your case later. March !” 

Away hurried the boys to spread the direful 
tidings of punishment to come. But one 
good result of their escapade had been the 
better introduction of poor Lady Barefoot 


40 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


to a new and powerful friend. It was an 
old saying in the village that whom the Squire 
persecuted he did to the end, and that whom 
he befriended had found a tireless champion. 
The gentleman turned to the girl as soon as his 
prisoners departed, and asked her a few quiet 
questions about her life with her grandfather, 
learning by her straightforward replies more of 
the old miser^s habits than he had ever known 
before. 

So the money you obtain from the sale of 
such creatures as you can tame, keejDs you in 
food, does it 

Yes, sir. Mostly it does. Sometimes I pick 
berries in their season, but few people care for 
the wild ones who have gardens like the Chelsea 
folks do. But I do sell some now and again. 
Then Grandfather lets me keep that money to 
buy myself a frock, or a pair of slioes for winter. 
Oh , we do very well, sir. We do, indeed. And 
please, may I go now ? I have been so long — 
so long ! And he was so dreadfully ill. Hungry, 
too. Please, may I go ?” 

Go, child ? Of course you may, as soon as 
you are able. I have no anger against you, poor 
thing ! It is all against your wretched little tor- 


A MISHAP 


41 


menters. But I reckon you41 have the ^ freedom 
of the town ’ after this, and nobody dare molest 
you,’’ answered the Squire, setting his jaws 
grimly. 

“ But, Jean, I will take you home in the 
phaeton. That is, as near to your home as we 
can drive. I have found the cages and have 
them in the vehicle ; so, as soon as you feel 
able, we will start,” said Doctor Disney, kindly. 

Oh, I’m able, right away, now !” cried the 
girl eagerly. Young folks’ fainting-fits are not 
often serious matters, and though she felt a bit 
queerly, she did not think of minding that. 

I — I never rode in a carriage in my life !” 

Did you not? Then it is high time you 
began ! Stand up and see if you can walk.” 

‘‘ I — oh, yes — I guess so !” answered the 
girl, a bit doubtfully, for when she came to use 
her feet she found them not quite as obedient 
to her will as common. I — I’m a little 
wobbley, somehow, but I’ll be over it as soon 
as I can get out of doors. But — I can’t ride, 
either ! For I must go to the market for a 
piece of meat. That is what I came down for, 
only so much happened, I forgot. That is — if 
— if — She hesitated, and blushed painfully. 


42 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


She had never been obliged to ask the Doctor 
to pay for her birds and squirrels before. He 
had always seemed to think of that himself, 
and now he did not offer. 

If what, my dear 

“If you — want to keep the ones I brought — 
and can — ’’ 

“ Pay for them ? Of course, of course ! I 
was going to do so before, but it slipped my 
mind. And, by the way, child, I think I have 
been giving you too little for those you have 
furnished me. I have made up my mind to 
double the price. How does that suit you 

“ I would rather you did not,’’ replied Jean, 
very earnestly. 

“ Zounds ! I should like to know. You’re 
the first human being I ever met who didn’t 
want more !” 

“ You’ve been so kind. Doctor Disney, I 
couldn’t ; I really could not. Besides — ” 

“ Besides what ?” 

“ I would rather not tell.” 

“ Jean, does your grandfather ever give 
you any of the solid food you buy for him — of 
the meat, I mean?” asked the good Doctor, 
suddenly. 


A MISHAP 


43 


Oh, no, sir ! But I wouldn’t eat it if he 
dido I couldn’t. It would choke me. I do 
not need it.” 

What do you eat?” 

Porridge.” 

What sort ?” 

“ Is there more than one sort ? I make it 
with Indian meal and water and a little salt. 
It is very good.” 

And that is all ?” 

All, sir.” 

Do you never have anything else ? Vege- 
tables or bread — pies or cakes — anything which 
a healthy, hungry young thing like you would 
enjoy ?” 

‘‘Why, no, sir; not often,” answered Jean, 
simply. “ But I am not hungry, as you say — 
not always. If Grandfather were not ill, I 
should not mind anything. But sometimes he 
frightens me. He is — he doesn’t talk like you 
and this other gentleman, sir.” 

“ Humph ! Say, Squire, just take this child 
into your dining-room, won’t you, and fill her 
up with anything in the world you can find in 
the pantry. I’ll answer to my old friend, your 
good lady, for the foraging when I meet her. 


44 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


And 141 just drive down to the market and get 
the meat Jean was after, then take her home 
as fast as old Nan-lady can travel, which is at 
pretty considerable of a pace when I whisper to 
her that it is on a good errand she goes. 141 
be back in a jiffy. Meanwhile, my little Jean, 
eat every blessed thing you can swallow. Just 
see how it feels to have a full stomach for once 
in your life. This is a day of unique expe- 
riences for you, my Bright Eyes, isn’t it ? And 
141 wager a box of candy that having a good 
dinner will suit you better than being either a 
^ captive queen ’ or a romantic ‘ faint-awayer !’ ” 

And with that the kindly, jolly Doctor took 
himself off to the market, and the astonished 
Jean tottered after her new friend, the Squire, 
into his comfortable dining-room. 

Half an hour later, feeling very much re- 
freshed, and as if she had eaten enough to last 
her a long time, Jean rode along beside Doctor 
Disney toward the cabin which was her poor 
home. Here she had lived, ever since the death 
of her parents, with her miserly old grandfather, 
who treated her kindly, according to his own 
ideas, but most neglectfully according to those 
of her two new friends. 


A MISHAP 


45 


‘‘ It is a strange wild place/’ commented the 
Doctor, as they came to the end of the road 
which either he or Nan considered trustworthy. 
“ This great pass between the mountains looks 
as if a mighty river had flowed through here 
ages ago. I have seen nothing like this valley 
save the great canons of the West. The cabin 
stands on a little hill, raised right out of the 
bed of the valley or the river, doesn’t it ? The 
dry river, I mean, of my imagination.” 

Yes, but it is a real enough one sometimes.” 

‘‘When the freshets, or the heavy rains 
come ?” 

“ Yes, sir. Sometimes we are shut in there, 
cut off from the road to the village and every 
place, for days together. Grandfather says there 
was a foot-bridge once, but it has fallen long 
ago. Do you think you can climb down this 
steep place and up the other bank ? It is the 
nearest way to the house, but the other longer 
one is easier.” 

“ Yes, indeed. I’m a pretty fair climber for 
an old man. Here, Nan, you wait till I come 
back. Lead on, my dear ; I’ll follow if I can.” 

Down one bank and up the other hurried the 
girl, trying to forget the wounded foot which 


46 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


she had hurt by jumping to the succor of the 
ungrateful Jim, and wondering at the brilliant 
light which shone through the open door of the 
log cabin. 

What can it mean ? It isn^t quite dark yet, 
and Grandfather never burns a candle when we 
have a fire of boughs. What — what 

On the threshold of the abode she paused, 
rooted to the spot in terrified astonishment. A 
great roaring flame of pine boughs filled the 
wide, old-fashioned chimney, and before it the 
old man whom she had left ill on the pallet was 
now standing and waving his hands in the 
wildest and most fantastic fashion. His hag- 
gard face and white hair were lighted by the 
red glare, his unsteady limbs whirled madly 
about as if animated by electricity, and his 
thin hands waved high above his head the 
still bleeding fragments of a red squirrel’s body. 

Flesh — flesh — and blood ! Who says flesh 
and blood ? I will have none but this — this — 
the warm meat that gives life to an old man’s 
veins !” With a frantic gesture the dancer 
thrust a portion of the horrid food he had ob- 
tained into his mouth, then, reeling forward, he 
fell into the midst of the flames. 


CHAPTEE IV 


THE END OF A LIFE 

“ Grandfather ! Grandfather I” shrieked 
Jean, awaking at last from the spell of horror 
which had chained her feet to the threshold. 
With the strength of excitement she lifted 
the poor old man from the hearth, and half- 
closing her eyes lest she should see the scorched 
face, she wrapped him hastily, if blindly, in her 
own poor cotton frock, torn off in the moment 
of fright. 

Then a firm, kindly hand put her gently 
aside. 

Let me. Bring water and — but water 
first.’’ 

Jean hurried to the ledge outside the door 
where a bucket of water was usually kept, 
thankfully remembering that she had paused 
to fill it before she went down into the village. 

47 


48 


MY LADY barefoot 


‘‘Now, bandages — any sort — the softer the 
better. And oil. Have you any oil 

“ No. Oh, sir ! Is he dead 

“ I think not. The bandages — quick.” 

“Will the calico on this bed answer? It is 
all—” 

“ Nothing white ? The skin must not be 
poisoned.” As he spoke Doctor Disney cast a 
hasty glance about the poor apartment. Such 
abject distress and barrenness as it displayed it 
had never been his lot to witness before, and he 
shuddered as he thought of the girl who had 
been shut up here with a man — insane ! 

That was the swift interpretation which the 
physician had put upon the terrible scene he 
had witnessed. “ Crazy as a loon. That is what 
has made him so unlike other people and hard 
to his poor grandchild.” 

“ Oh, Doctor Disney, I have nothing, nothing 
but the brown coverlet and my frock. My pet- 
ticoat — yes. But it is so old and torn.” 

“ Never mind. Here, have you a candle, if 
not oil ?” 

“ There is a piece of one.” 

“ Bring it.” 

Jean obeyed. 


THE END OF A LIFE 


49 


“ Now go out doors a moment.’’ 

When she was recalled she found that the 
good Doctor had taken off his own fine white 
shirt and was tearing it into shreds. Here, 
child, roll these so — tight, while the bit of 
candle melts. Put it in a dish before the fire.” 

Jean brought the basin in which she made 
her porridge. It was clean and scoured bright 
with the sand of the water-bed of the pass. 
‘‘ Oh, will you not suffer without your clothing, 
dear Doctor Disney ?” 

Humph ! I reckon not. I ought to, if I 
do, for letting human beings live like this while 
I wasted my sympathy on animals who didn’t 
want it. No, don’t worry ; my underwear is 
thick and heavy. But you — have you no other 
frock ?” 

‘‘ No — sir.” 

‘‘ Wrap that coverlet about you, then.” 

He will need it.” 

He will need nothing more.” 

Why not ?” 

“ Because — because I shall not let him. 
There, he is not so badly burned, after all. 
Bring me a tumbler; I mean — anything. I 
want to give him some medicine.” 

4 


50 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


He has his own, sir. I’ll show you. He 
takes it often, very often !” cried poor Jean, 
eager to have one thing that was required, 
already in the house. She ran to the little cup- 
board and brought the vial of dark liquid and 
the broken cup in which her grandfather meas- 
ured his doses. 

‘‘ Does he take this, as you say, often ?” 

“ Every day, whenever he feels the ‘ spells ’ 
coming on. He told me once it was his heart.” 

No wonder ! He has been killing himself 
with that poison. Throw it away and rinse out 
the cup, then bring it to me.” 

Again Lady Barefoot’s obedience was prompt, 
as far as rinsing the medicine-cup went; but 
she did not throw away the precious vial, whose 
contents had cost so much that her grandfather 
never ceased regretting the “terrible price.” 
She dared not obey, indeed, for she trembled to 
think what her old companion would suffer 
should he happen to awake and call for his 
“ drops ” and not have them at hand. 

“Doctor Disney doesn’t know about that. 
If he did, he would not have told me to waste 
them. Queer ! He carries medicine, too. I 
wonder if all men do ! I saw the Squire take 


THE END OF A LIFE 


51 


a bottle out of bis pocket with some little white 
things in it, and eat some, while I was drinking 
my milk in his dining-room. He saw me look- 
ing and said : ^ It is only pills, my dear — for 
the dyspepsia. I’d give a fortune to have your 
digestion !’ How funny it seems that I could 
have anything anybody else would want !” 

Jean !” 

She hurried back into the cabin. 

‘‘ Jean, would you be afraid to stay here 
for a little while, alone with your grandfather ? 
I will drive back to the village, if you are not, 
and bring some things to make him comfort- 
able ? Also, a nurse, if I can.” Doctor Disney 
looked searchingly into the troubled young 
face before him as he asked the question. 

No — 0, I am not afraid. I mean, I should 
not be — unless he should become violent again. 
Will he do that, sir ? I thought it was so 
awful !” 

He will not be able to rise for a long time, 
I am afraid. Did you throw the medicine 
away ?” 

No, sir.” 

I told you to !” impatiently. 

‘‘ I understood you, and would have minded, 


52 


MY LADY BAEEFOOT 


had I dared. But I did not. He would — 
would beat me, if he woke and I could not 
give it to him when he asked.’’ 

Beat you, poor child ? Did he, often ?” 

‘‘Oh, no, sir! Never, except the ‘spell’ 
was on him.” 

“You need not fear. I think he will he 
perfectly quiet, else I would not leave you alone 
with him, even to save his life. But he may 
rouse and want a drink of water. You can 
give him this solution when he does, and as 
much pure water as he craves. I will come 
back as soon as I can. Good-by I Keep up a 
good fire for yourself. The night is going to 
be cold. If — if anything should happen — if 
he should wake up violent — you had better run 
away. Come to the village after me — though I 
will make all the speed I can. Good-by, 
again, and courage !” 

By the fast-fading daylight Jean watched 
the kind physician, who had long since ceased 
to practice for hire, but who was now putting 
all his habits aside for the warm interest he was 
beginning to take in her humble affairs, as he 
passed out of sight down the steep bank and 
up on the opposite one, where the wood engulfed 


THE END OF A LIFE 


53 


him in its shadows. Then she returned within 
the cabin, and for the first time her eyes fell 
upon the torn fragments of the little animal on 
which her frenzied grandparent had made his 
supper. 

Oh, you poor little creature ! Where did he 
get you ? I thought all the cages were safe be- 
hind the great rock in the old spring-house. 
How can a human being eat such innocent, 
harmless things Casting her eye anxiously 
toward the pallet where the unconscious old 
man lay with his face swathed in whiter clothes 
than had touched his body for many a day, she 
stooped and gently lifted the mutilated remains 
of what was once a living embodiment of grace, 
and carried them out of doors to hide them 
under some fallen leaves. 

Then she remembered Whisker. The dear 
little fellow ! He must think I am unkind to 
leave him so long. And he will be wanting his 
supper, the little gourmand. I wonder — ” A 
dreadful suspicion made her pause and turn sick 
with fear, then speed forward swiftly, forgetful 
of all else save the one little living thing which 
loved her. Her hands trembled so that as she 
knelt before the secret hiding-place of her play- 


54 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


mates she rattled the wire bars in their sockets. 
But a rustling, joyful sound within the tiny 
prison reassured her, and thrusting in her 
hand she drew her favorite forth, more thank- 
ful for the touch of his warm, soft fur than 
she had ever been for anything in her young 
life. 

‘‘Oh, Whisker, Whisker, darling! For a 
moment — one horrid, black moment — I thought 
it had been you. But no, and I am so glad — so 
glad 1’^ 

Then she flew back into the cabin, piled 
fresh heaps of branches which her own arms 
had dragged hither from the forest, and sat 
down to watch. 

“ Chitter — chatter — chitter,^^ said Whisker, 
perched on one palm while he cracked and ate 
the nuts she held out toward him on the other. 
“ Chitter — chatter,’’ as plain almost as human 
speech to his little mistress, and far fuller of 
sympathy fo her ears. 

Once in a while the figure on the pallet stirred 
uneasily, and a moan escaped the parted lips, 
but Jean was too ignorant to feel anywise but 
grateful for his quietness and too accustomed to 
her grandfather’s restless sleeps to watch him 


THE END OF A LIFE 


55 


more closely than from her safe distance across 
the little room. 

By and by she felt drowsy. Dear me ! I 
wish the Doctor would come back, since he 
promised, though I donh see why he need. But 
how queer Grandfather does look. All wrapped 
up like that. It was a wonder he did not burn 
to death. What if we had not come just as we 

did r 

With a shudder the girl turned her face away 
and leaned her head against the wall, and in 
five minutes more she was sound asleep. 

Five hours later she awoke. The room was 
cold and dark, save where a few moonbeams 
struggled through the few pieces of glass left in 
the rag-stufied window-frame. She had the 
feeling of one called out of a dream, yet had 
heard no voice, nor at first could she realize 
where she was. 

Then there came once more the sound which 
had roused her. “ Jean, come here 

‘‘Yes, oh, yes. Grandfather. Have you wanted 
me and I did not hear ? I am so sorry.’^ 

“ Hush ! the time is short ; I — am — dying.’^ 

“ Oh, no ! It cannot be ! You only think so. 
Soon the good Doctor will be back and bring 


56 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


everything to make you comfortable. Cheer up 
and wait.” 

Too late ! The key — I must tell — you — 
while I can — the key, I say.” 

‘‘ Where ? Let me make a light of fresh 
boughs on the coals ; I cannot see, nor you.” 

She ran swiftly to the pile of brushwood she 
had collected, bit by bit, for their winter use and 
brought an armful of the branches, which, 
heaped upon the few coals left on the hearth, 
soon sprang into a brilliant blaze. 

‘‘ Jean ! Jean !” Again that querulous, faint, 
impatient cry. 

‘‘Yes, Grandfather,” responded the girl, 
kneeling beside the pallet and taking the old 
man’s hand in hers. But she was startled by 
its coldness, and bent further forward to look 
into the glassy eyes, almost the only portion of 
the face which the bandages left uncovered. 

“Hark ! In the hole in the wall — between the 
two top logs — find a leather bag ; bring it.” 

Jean sprang up obediently, but to which of 
the four sides of the room to direct her steps 
she did not know. “ Which side. Grandfather ; 
which wall ?” 

The miser raised one white-bound hand and 


THE END OF A LIFE 


57 


pointed unsteadily. He seemed conscious of no 
suffering beyond that mental unrest which ban- 
ished sleep. 

Jean seized a brand from the fire and carried 
it to the wall, keeping her eyes fixed upon her 
guardian’s face, to learn if she were on the right 
track. Finally the pointing finger paused above 
a bunch of dried herbs, and gently moving these 
aside the girl discovered a deep depression in the 
whitewashed plaster. 

“ Is this the hole you meant V* 

Yes.” 

Thrusting her slim fingers into the break, 
Jean felt them touch a bit of leather. In 
another instant she had drawn out a small 
pouch made of “ chipmunk ” skin and contain- 
ing a large, rudely-fashioned key. This she 
laid in her grandfather’s hand, but he was pow- 
erless to hold it, and it fell to the floor with a 
sharp resound. 

‘‘ Ah ! Take care — take care ! Let nobody 
hear that — or ever see it. The key — my pre- 
cious key !” 

‘‘Yes, dear. Shall I put it back?” 

“ Never. Put it about your neck. There is 
a string.” 


58 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Reluctantly the girl obeyed. The touch of 
the cold steel through the worn pouch sent a 
shiver through her flesh, but it was half a su- 
perstitious fear. Why did her grandfather set 
such store by that bit of metal ? What had he 
or she worth locking out of sight? 

There. It is well. I can die now.’’ 

Oh, Grandfather ! And leave me alone ?” 

Better so. There is a letter in the hole, 
also.” 

She found a folded paper and drew it forth. 
It was folded in a bit of the rough brown 
paper which had once wrapped a piece of the 
‘‘butcher’s meat” which she had bought for 
the old man’s use. The writing on the big, 
rough envelope was coarse and black, as if it 
had been done with a charred twig. She could 
not read, though her grandfather had been an 
educated man, and from him she had acquired 
the use of good language only. 

“What does it say. Grandfather? On the 
wrapper ?” 

“ Time enough for that. When I am dead — 
it will be soon — take the letter to Squire Dutton. 
He is a hard man, but a just one. He will read 
the letter and advise you. But do not dare to 


THE END OF A LIFE 


59 


part with the key for one single minute ; either 
to friend or foe, until its task is done. Else an 
old man’s curse will rest upon you. Promise 
me that, child !” All this said brokenly, with 
great effort. 

I will not — if I can help it.” 

‘‘ No, no ! Promise !” 

The excitement which suddenly possessed 
the dying man gave him strength to half rise 
and clutch his grandchild’s shoulder. 

“ Promise !” Then there came a strange, rat- 
tling sound in Mr. Wilder’s throat, a swift re- 
laxation of the grip upon the girl’s arm, an 
utter collapse of the whole wasted frame, and 
all that was mortal of an unhapj)y man fell 
back upon the pallet, silent for evermore. 


CHAPTEE V 


WHY THE DOCTOR DID NOT COME 

To the land sake ! Here comes old Nan, 
dragging the phaeton, all broke to smash ! 
Whereas master ? Some dreadful thing has 
happened So cried old Hannah, the Doctor’s 
housekeeper, as, shutting up her poultry- 
houses for the night, she saw the faithful Nan 
pace solemnly into the stableyard. 

‘‘Jeremiah! Jer — e — miah I Where can 
that fellow be? I say — Jeremiah — Eideout! 
Where be ye ?” 

“ What on airth’s the matter with ye, 
woman alive? Yellin’ fit ter roust the dead! 
If ye’ve got anything to say, why carn’t ye 
say it civil an’ easy, not split yer lungs 
a-screechin ?” retorted a voice from the hay- 
loft. 

“ Have ye finished ? Can a poor, down-trod 

60 


WHY THE DOCTOR DID NOT COME 61 

female have her say ?’' asked Hannah, sarcasti- 
cally. 

Every female ever I knowed would have 
it whether or no. So, fire ahead. ‘What’s the 
use o’ askin’ permission ?” 

“ Hem ! Well, then, I reckon master’s 
hurt.” 

‘‘ What ? What do ye say ?” 

“ I say, here’s old Nan, and what remains o’ 
the phaeton, but no Doctor Disney. Looks like 
there’d been an upset or somethin’, ” remarked 
Hannah, with exasperating quietness. 

What ? ‘ Remains of the phaeton ’? 

Woman alive, why didn’t ye tell me quicker? 
Whatever makes ye stan’ there an drawl yer 
words out slow as molasses in the winter-time, 
while all the while the best master ’at ever 
lived may be a-lyin’ dead by the roadside?” 
grumbled Jeremiah, climbing down from the 
loft as fast as seventy years and the rheuma- 
tism would let him, yet still with a slowness 
that gave ample time for the reproof of his 
wife. 

“ Well, I thought mebbe I’d please ye better 
that-a-way. Howsomever, don’t let us stan’ 
still an’ quarrel when master is — nobody knows 


62 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


what ! Say, old Nan, carn’t ye tell us a word ? 
What befell ye to come mopin’ home in this 
style, I’d like to know ?” 

Faithful old Nan bowed her head slowly up 
and down, as if she would speak if she could, 
then stood patiently while Hannah herself 
began to unharness the mare and take her 
from the broken shafts of the vehicle. 

Meanwhile, Jeremiah had caught up his hat, 
shouted for his son, Peterkin, to leave his 
sup23er eating and follow, and had started otf 
up the street at a really rapid pace, considering 
all things. Peterkin, a big, lumbering fellow — 
a doting mother’s overgrown baby — finished his 
2)late of wheat-cakes, drank a goodly mug of 
cider, and pushed back from the table at a most 
leisurely rate. 

‘^What’s Poj) hollerin’ for? Can’t a body 
even eat what he wants without bein’ set to doin’ 
somethin’ else ! Halloo, Ma, what’s the row 
with Pop ?” 

Oh, Peterkin, my boy, somethin’s happened 
to master !” 

‘^What sort o’ somethin’?” coolly inquired 
the youthful Pideout, as his mother entered the 
kitchen in a burst of excitement. 


WHY THE DOCTOR, DTD NOT COME 68 

‘‘ How do I know ? Go an’ see — go an’ see ! 
as quick as you can, that’s a dear.” 

Ain’t he old enough to take care o’ hisself ?” 

Pe-ter-kin !” 

Well, ain’t he ? What’ll ye give me ?” 

A big piece o’ plum cake. Now, hurry, do !” 

‘‘Honest? Won’t put me off when I fetch 
him back ?” 

“ No, no, no ! You shall have two pieces if 
you’ll go right straight off.” 

“ Which way ?” 

“ Any way ! Only find him. He’s been bound 
to kill hisself a-drivin’ inter the most outlandish 
places a huntin’ up squirr’ls an’ other trash ! 
What -does a man in his forty-nine senses care 
for the critters, anyway ? But there he’d set an’ 
watch their antics by the hour, jest as if they 
had some use in livin’; But hurry, hurry, dear, 
dear Peterkin ! Do — if — if — he should be — all 
squashed — somewheres !” 

Peterkin laughed gayly. His slow wit began 
at last to rouse to a sense of the affair, and he 
departed with more speed than he often used in 
the hope of seeing some sort of “ show,” even if 
it happened to be the misfortune of his own 
kind master. 


64 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Jeremiah had hurried up into the village 
square, eagerly demanding of all whom he met : 

Seen anything o’ the Doctor ?” 

No. Anything happened ?” 

‘‘ Dunno.” On he flew, coat-skirts flapping 
in the wind, hair full of hay seed, cane wrong 
side up, spectacles upon his hat-brim — a sight 
in himself to excite the curiosity and alarm of 
all good Chelsea folks. 

“ Better try the Squire’s,” suggested some- 
body. ‘‘ Saw the Doctor driving that way just 
before sunset.” 

And to the Squire’s Jeremiah went, ringing 
the bell with such force as to pull it from its 
socket and frightening good Mrs. Dutton out of 
her after-supper nap. 

“ Doctor Disney here, ma’am ? Beg parding, 
but — good evenin’ — is the Doctor here ?” 

“ No. He was here this afternoon, husband 
said, but he went away before sundown. Why ? 
What’s happened ?” 

“ Dunno , where’s the Squire ?” 

“ In his ofiice. I’ll call him.” 

But when that gentleman answered to the 
summons he could give no further information 
than that his old friend had left the house to 


WHY THE DOCTOR DID NOT COME 65 


carry the “squirrel girl” home to the moun- 
tain. 

“ That’s it ! That’s what has happened, 
then !” cried old Jerry, with conviction. “ He’s 
gone up there and been murdered. Yes, sir, 
depend upon it ; he’s as dead as a door nail by 
this time. That ever I should have lived to see 
this day !” 

“ Oh, you simpleton ! Just because my 
friend’s horse comes home without him, you 
jump to the conclusion that he has been mur- 
dered ! Into my stable with you and harness 
up my nag ; I’ll get a few things together and 
we’ll drive to the mountain. More than prob- 
able he has stayed there longer than he intended 
and Nan has got tired and come home alone.” 

“ What smashed the phaeton, then ?” de- 
manded Jeremiah, fiercely. His sluggish mind 
had leaped to the idea of foul play and refused 
to relinquish it for any other more reasonable 
notion. 

“ Bosh ! Harness, I tell you ! Here, wife, 
please ; just put me up some restoratives while I 
get a blanket and some other things together, 
then we’ll be off. If people come asking ques- 
tions don’t let them hear what rubbish Jerry 
5 


66 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


has spoken The Squire smiled brightly upon 
gentle Mrs. Dutton, whose heart was still heavy 
over the disfigurement of her cherished trees, 
and left her laughing at Jeremiah^s childish 
notion but so potent is the influence of an evil 
suspicion that the two men had not driven a 
hundred rods before the Squire began to enter- 
tain the same horrible thought. 

The Doctor — the gentle, kindly Doctor, of 
all men — to be waylaid and murdered ! Im- 
possible 

‘‘ Stranger things has happened. Squire 

You persistent old fool ! My friend hadn’t 
an enemy in the world.” 

It aint the first time an innercent man has 
suffered for somebody else’s fault.” 

Whose ?” 

I dunno, but I do believe that I shan’t never 
look upon the face o’ my old master alive ag’in 
in this world.” 

Drive on !” ordered the Squire testily, and 
vouchsafed no further speech. But this did not 
hinder his watching the road over which they 
traveled and casting the searchlight of his great 
lantern into all the nooks and crannies which 
the rising moon did not illumine. 


WHY THE DOCTOR DTD NOT COME B7 

The sounds of others following annoyed the 
Squire also. ‘‘Why couldn’t you keep still when 
you came through the village ? Half the com- 
munity is after us ! What do they expect to 
find ? And how do you think your master will 
like to he made the gazing stock of all the loafers 
in town ? He, who practised the gospel of 
‘mind your own business,’ if ever anybody 
did.” 

“ I dunno,” replied Jerry, stoically as ever, 
and said no more. 

When they came to the end of the road lead- 
ing toward Jean’s home, and the spot where the 
Doctor had left his horse, they paused. 

“ He couldn’t drive beyond this. Not unless 
he went over the bank into the creek bottom.” 

Jerry got out and hitched the nag he had 
driven to the nearest tree. 

“ Lend me your lantern. Squire.” 

“ Confound you, man ! what for ? Don’t tell 
me you see anything !” exclaimed the old 
lawyer, protestingly. 

“ Mebbe I don’t. I hope by all that’s sacred 
’at I don’t. But — it’s borne in on me ’at I do. 
Lend me the lantern, won’t ye ?” 

The Squire gave it to him, then turned upon 


68 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


the crowd of villagers who had followed their 
slow progress. 

What do all you men want here ? What 
do you expect to see 

There was no response, but an abashed 
muttering, and the Squire strode away in 
disgust. 

“ Here, Jerry. I’m going across this ravine 
to the house yonder. Ten chances to one the 
Doctor is there.” 

Hold on. Squire. Jeremiah’s found some- 
thing.” 

The gleam of the lantern approaching ar- 
rested the lawyer’s steps. 

‘‘Well ?” 

“ This was his’n,” said the old servant, with 
trembling lips, holding up an old white hat. 

“ Hm — m ! If it was, it doesn’t prove any- 
thing but that we are on the right track, as I 
knew all along. Here, all of you followers ! 
Spread yourselves about and search this ravine. 
Doctor Disney has met with a runaway acci- 
dent, probably. Don’t waste a second. Search. 
His life may depend upon your speed.” 

The villagers dispersed with a will, and 
swarmed over the sides of the gulch to pry into 


WHY THE DOCTOR DID NOT COME 69 


its darkest recesses, too interested to speak or 
make any sound save the crashing of their feet 
upon the sparse undergrowth. But the Squire 
climbed out of the gorge on the further side 
and hurried to the miser’s cottage. 

The firelight streamed through the broken 
window-panes, and peeping in he saw by its 
clear light what seemed to him a most peaceful 
scene. Old Mr. Wilder sleeping on his pallet 
in the shadowed corner, and tired little Jean 
dozing against the further wall. 

‘‘Hm — m! Poor little thing! A pity to wake 
and disturb her. And if the Doctor did come 
home with her, it is evident he did not stay. I 
haven’t the heart to wake her up. But what a 
desolate place ! I’ll take her case in hand to- 
morrow, after I find out what has happened to 
Disney, and she shall have a taste of comfort 
for once, or my name isn’t Dutton !” 

Then he stole quietly away again, and Jean 
was left alone to keep her watch with Death. 

At the foot of the gorge, as he descended 
from his examination of the cabin, a knot of 
men met him. They were bareheaded, holding 
their hats in their hands, and their faces were 
white in the moonlight. 


70 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Well questioned the Squire, already 
guessing at the evil news they brought. 

“ We’ve found him. That’s all.” 

Where ? How is he ?” 

Dead. In the bottom of the gully. In a 
hole he never could have fallen into — where we 
never should have seen him, but for his white 
hair glistening in the moonshine.” 

Good heavens ! It cannot be !” 

^‘True. Dead — murdered! With a scar 
across his forehead — and — and — the best man 
in all old Chelsea ! Oh, Squire I Why should 
such a thing be ?” 


CHAPTER VI 


TWO STRANGE ENCOUNTERS 

‘‘ Oh, how late I have slept V’ was the first 
thought which darted through Jean Wilder’s 
mind on the morning after her grandfather’s 
death, as she woke to find the sun shining full 
in her face, the fire out, the room cold, and little 
Whisker skipping about as merrily as if no 
such thing as death and sorrow ever visited the 
world. 

I wonder if Grandfather has wanted any- 
thing ! Oh, I — remember.” 

For the second thought had been of the last 
words the old man had spoken, and with an 
incredulous horror of the trouble that had 
come upon her, she sped across the room and 
knelt down by the silent figure upon the narrow 
bed. 

Grandfather ! Dear, dear Grandfather ! 

71 


72 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Speak to me ! Tell me that it isn't true ! 
You are only sleeping — are you not? Oh, 
don’t lie so still ! My only friend — Grand- 
father!” 

Forgotten were all the harsh, impatient words 
that had once tortured her heart ; forgotten the 
life of hard privation, the hunger, cold, neglect. 
Only a desolate, terrible loneliness remained, 
to which all that had gone before had been 
bright by comparison. 

But the silent lips were white now almost as 
the fresh, clean bandages with which a kindly 
hand had covered the scars of the fire ; 
the thin fingers hung limply down till they 
rested on the floor, and the spare old frame had 
taken on that terrible rigidity which means but 
one thing. 

Dead ! He is dead ! And I am alone — 
alone !” With a cry like that of some hurt 
wild thing of the forest, the untutored girl threw 
herself passionately down upon the hard floor 
and lay there weeping silently. Whisker ceased 
his gambols and sprang to her shoulder, but 
even his merry chatter in her ear did not reach 
the dulled sense, and it was not until a heavy 
step upon the threshold roused her that Jean 


TWO STRANGE ENCOUNTERS 73 

sprang up again and turned eagerly toward the 
door. 

‘‘The good Doctor! I am not quite alone, 
then ! I forgot him — he was so late in coming !” 
Then she flew to open the door and found her- 
self face to face with a person as unlike her 
friend, the naturalist, as evil is unlike good. 

“ Oh I Who are you ? I thought; — ” 

The man retreated as naturally as did the 
girl. He had come expecting to And the cabin 
empty, and the surprise was not pleasant. 
“ What is that to you ? What are you doing 
here 

“ I ? Why — I — live here. What do you 
want 

From his position on the little rickety porch 
the visitor could not see within the room, but 
he was suspicious of another surprise, and he 
answered cautiously : “ What do I want ? Why, 
just a word with you, my dear, outside the house. 
A secret for your ear alone, my pretty one. A 
message from the master of this place. He was 
your — 

“ Grandfather,’’ answered innocent Jean, fall- 
ing readily into the trap set for her words. “ How 
can that be, seeing — he — is — ” Recollections 


74 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


of the terrible night overcame her and she 
dropped her face upon her hands to hide her 
tears. 

Is — what demanded the stranger roughly. 

Is — dead wailed the orphaned girl. 

A sinister gleam, which Jean did not see, 
lighted the other’s face and he stepped forward 
boldly, seizing her shoulders with a grip of steel. 

You know it then ? Well, out with the secret, 
miss, before I send you after him ! Where does 
he keep his money 

Jean looked up swiftly, and struggled to free 
herself from the man’s gras]^. He has no 
money. What are his affairs to you ? Let me 
go!” 

Presently. When you have told me all 
you know. You lie — you know it. The man 
was rich. A miser. He has gold — gold in 
plenty, but hidden. You must know where. 
Tell me before I lose my patience. It would be 
a shame to hurt so pretty a child. I have a 
mind to spare you. Tell me where the gold is 
stored, and you are free.” 

'' He has no gold, I tell you. We are poor, 
poor, so poor — see here. Does this old frock look 
as if he had been rich, as you say ? True, there 


TWO STKANOE ENCOUNTEKS 


75 


was a little left over from the sale of the 
animals, after we bought his food and medicine, 
and his few books. For he loved his books so 
much. Grandfather, Grandfather 

Shut up ! Hold your silly tongue. What 
if somebody should hear you ? Tell me — waste 
no more words — where is the money As he 
spoke the ruffian shook his victim fiercely, and 
the baleful light of his great black eyes seemed 
to scorch her as lightning sears. 

For an instant she stood trembling, fascinated 
with terror, powerless to move. In another she 
had wrenched herself free and had darted down 
the path from the cabin at a speed which her 
torm enter could not hope to equal. He wheeled 
about and stared after her incredulously, not 
understanding how she had escaped him ; then 
glanced down at his still clenched fingers, 
and at something which, in tearing herself loose 
from it, she had left within his grasp. 

What, a key ? Did I scare it out of her, 
then ? Well, well ! Luck has seldom so pros- 
pered me. First the easy — but no matter. 
Best to forget all that went on last night. And 
I’m obliged to you, my pretty Bright Eyes, for 
the good turn you served me. The key, indeed. 


76 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


That means that the treasure is mine. Well, I 
must get to work before the runaway rouses the 
whole village and sets them after me. I’m glad 
now I did not come into the place in the night. 
Daylight is better * and safer. He that toils 
by candlelight reveals himself to others, 
but blinds his own eyes. Hurrah ! This 
is the easiest job I’ve had in many a day.” 
At that moment, AVhisker, who had been 
perched above the door, made a spring forward 
and downward, and lighted upon the intruder’s 
head, then was off and away after his young 
mistress, before the astonished stranger could 
recover from the fright into which the gay little 
squirrel’s onslaught had thrown him. ‘‘ My 
soul ! Is the place haunted ? Seemed like a 
spirit touched me on the head and vanished ! 
However, I’ve no time for sj)irits at this junc- 
ture in my life, when fortune smiles upon me as 
she does this morning.” 

The unexpected guest entered the cabin gayly 
and lightly, with a debonair recklessness of bear- 
ing that foreboded no ill. But he had scarcely 
set foot upon the worn flooring when a terrible 
sight met his startled eyes. 

The corpse of old Israel Wilder had lain 


TWO STKANGE ENCOUNTERS 


77 


perilously near the edge of his narrow pallet, 
and in Jean’s passionate grief and clasping of 
the body, she had unconsciously drawn it still 
further forward. The law of gravitation is a 
fixed law. It makes no exceptions even for 
the most rudely shocked nerves, and as the 
dark-faced fellow in the blue knit jerkin bowed 
his tall head beneath the low portal, the inert 
mass, which had once been animated by a soul, 
slipped heavily downward and fell to the 
boards with a thud. 

Caramba ! Santa Maria, defend ! What — 
who — another ?” 

It was too late for retreat. If he had found 
two human beings where he had looked for 
none, so much the worse for them ! With a 
yell that would have intimidated any human 
ears, the foreigner leaped forward and fell upon 
this new opponent of his will. 

‘‘ Take that ! How can I help it if — ” He 
dealt the man upon the floor a cruel blow with 
his clenched fist, then drew back in horror. 
The flesh that he had touched had a strange 
feel ; the hand that he seized — 

‘‘ My soul ! Have I gone mad? This hand 
< — is — the hand of the dead !” 


78 


MY LADY BABEFOOT 


With one terrified spring backward, the ruf- 
fian cleared the threshold once more, turned, 
and disappeared up the mountain more swiftly, 
if that might be, than Jean had rushed down 
its side. 


CHAPTER VII 

AT THE doctor's HOUSE 

Jean's rapid flight was checked only long 
enough and at rare intervals, for her to recover 
her spent breath, then up and on again as if 
pursued by an evil spirit. She had but one 
conscious thought — to find her old friend, the 
Doctor, and pour into his kindly ear the news 
of her grandfather's death, and of the ruffian's 
visit in the morning. 

The dear, good, kind Doctor Disney will 
surely tell me what to do. They bury people 
who die, bury them in the ground ; I know 
that, but how shall I do even that much for 
poor Grandfather? Well, I'll ask the Doctor. 
He'll help me. I have one friend, I believe ; 
though I shall be so awfully, awfully lonely 
without Grandfather." 

Over and over these thoughts ran through 

79 


80 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


the girl’s mind, and slie was half way down the 
village street toward the naturalist’s house 
before she observed the knots of curious and 
excited persons gathered on corners and in 
doorways, discussing some matter most ear- 
nestly. Each group became silent as she ap- 
proached, and every eye followed her progress. 

‘‘ Why, how queer ! I wonder what has haj)- 
pened ? Is it a holiday of some sort, that 
so many are idle this morning ? I’ll ask the 
Doctor, if I don’t forget, when I have told him 
that which I have to tell. Oh, I can’t bear to 
think of that horrid black-browed fellow in 
that room alone with — him ! Dead though he is.” 
And seeing nothing after that but the white lips 
and stiffened frame of her aged relative, absorbed 
in her own imagination, Jean entered at last the 
well-kept grounds of the Disney mansion. 

‘‘ Hello ! For the land’s sake, here is the girl 
herself!” 

Arrested by this exclamation, Jean looked 
up and found herself the centre of an excited 
throng. People, people everywhere ! The yard 
was full of them. Even the porches and the 
outbuildings held their quota of startled citi- 
zens, collected in morbid curiosity to gather 


AT THE doctor’s HOUSE 


81 


scraps of information about the dreadful event 
of the past night. 

^^The girl herself! Maybe she can tell us 
something. Say, Lady Barefoot, did you see 
the murder yourself? Where did you hide? 
Who did it?” 

You look as if you felt bad, too. They do 
say that he about kept you and the old man, 
buying the squirrels and birds you sold him. 
A pity ! A pity !” 

The very best and kindest man in all 
Chelsea village ! We could have spared many 
another better I” 

Jean paused, with her foot upon the step of 
the little study porch, the familiar way by which 
she had been accustomed to enter the house. 

I don’t understand you,” she said. Did 
you all know my grandfather ? And are you 
so sorry that he is dead ?” 

^^What? Hear her?” 

Is it not Grandfather of whom you speak ? 
He is dead — alas ! — but he was not murdered. 
He fell into the fire, but lie was ill, so ill he 
knew no better. Where is Doctor Disney? 
Will somebody call him, if you will not let me 
go to the door for myself?” 

6 


82 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Sakes alive ! Has the girl gone daft with 
the fright of it ? She must have seen the 
whole thing ! Say, who did it ?” 

‘‘Nobody did it, I tell you. He died of 
some terrible illness. Doctor Disney said it 
was his heart and his head. He was crazy at 
the last, else he never would have fallen as he 
did. But he is at rest now. Only — oh, please, 
somebody, move and let me to the door ! I 
must see the good Doctor right away. I dare 
not stay — I — please 

In utter astonishment the crowd upon the 
porch parted ever so little, but still enough for 
Jean’s slender form to pass between the ranks 
of men and women who gazed upon her as one 
gazes at an unknown creature. 

“ I shouldn’t think she could bear to ever 
look at him !” cried one voice in the midst. 
But the girl had already pressed through the 
well-filled doorway, and turned into the study 
on the right. 

“ Doctor ! Oh, dear, kind Doctor ! Why 
didn’t you come ? He is dead — dead ! And 
alone with the man — ” 

What was that? Why did the old Squire 
rise so suddenly from the chair where he had 


AT THE DOCTOk’s HOUSE 88 

been sitting with head bowed over something 
on the lounge, and come to lay his hand upon 
her eagerly ? 

“ You — here ? Did you see it done ? Who 
did it ? Quick !’’ 

“ I — do — not — understand !” responded Jean, 
trembling at the rough grasp and the fierce 
look of the old man who had befriended her 
but the afternoon before. 

He pushed her firmly forward and retained 
his clutch of her shoulder as her eyes fell upon 
that terrible something ” which he had been 
watching, while in an adjoining room the usual 
inquest ’’ was going forward. 

Girl, do you know anything about this ? 
When did you part with this man, who was 
kind to you r 

Jean’s eyes were big with wonder and grief. 
She did not heed, for she scarcely heard the 
Squire’s question. Her heart had almost 
stopped beating at this new and dreadful trouble. 

'‘Why, — is he — dead, too? Is everybody 
going to die ?” 

"Yes, he is dead. The best man and the 
oldest friend I knew ! But you are wanted 
in there — yonder, where the coroner awaits 


84 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


your coming. The messenger must have been 
swift.’^ 

“ What messenger ?’’ asked Lady Barefoot, 
absently, still failing to comprehend that this 
second death could be a fact. 

The messenger sent for you. Did you not 
see him?’’ 

“ No, sir. I saw nobody but — that dreadful 
man, with the wicked eyes.” 

^^Who? When? Where?” 

Now — this morning. He came and knocked 
at the door, and I opened it, thinking it was the 
Doctor, who had promised to come back. But 
it was a man I never saw before, and he fright- 
ened me so that I ran away to ask the Doctor 
to go back with me. Because Grandfather is 
dead, too, and I am afraid. I don’t know what 
to do. How can I bury him ? And I suppose 
he must be buried, for all dead people are.” 

The Squire’s grasp upon Jean’s shoulder re- 
laxed its severity and a great pity filled his 
mind. He began to believe that she had wit- 
nessed the murder of his own old friend, and 
that the sight had turned her brain. Sit down, 
dear. Now tell me all you know. Wait a mo- 
ment, gentlemen. You shall have your turn in 


AT THE doctor’s HOUSE 


85 


a moment, but I will let tliecliild Lave a chance 
to recover herself a bit first.” And with that 
the Squire motioned those who had followed 
Jean into the study to leave the room, and, 
closing the door, turned the key in the lock. 

The coroner was shut out with the rest, and 
his bustling self-importance was offended ; but 
still — it was just as well to think twice before 
finding fault with so powerful a personage in 
the community as Squire Dutton, and so he 
waited as patiently as he could for the result of 
the interview between the richest and the poorest 
citizens of all Chelsea — the millionaire Squire, 
and the pauper, Jean Wilder, taking place in 
that solemn presence of the murdered dead. 

Jean’s composure returned in some measure 
after all those gaping, curious eyes were shut off 
from staring at her, and she answered the 
Squire’s questions simply and promptly, though 
all the while the tears were streaming down her 
thin cheeks for this second loss which had made 
her wholly bankrupt of friends. 

‘‘ Where did you last see Doctor Disney ?” 

“ In my grandfather’s house. He bade me 
good-by at the door, and told me he would come 
back with some things to make Grandfather 


86 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


comfortable, and, maybe, be would bring a 
nurse, — though we did not need that. Grand- 
father had some dreadful thing wrong with his 
head and his heart. He used to take medicine 
and the Doctor saw the bottle and he said it was 
poison. He said, too, that Grandfather was 
insane, because when we got up to the cottage 
last night he was standing before the fire and 
waving his hands till he grew dizzy and fell 
into the coals. He was dreadfully burned, and 
the dear, kind Doctor tore his own shirt into 
bandages to wrap the hurt places in, because we 
hadn’t any right kind of cloth in the house. 
Then Doctor Disney didn’t come back, and in 
the night Grandfather died. I was alone with 
him. I wasn’t sure that he was dead, and some- 
how I was very, very sleepy. I couldn’t keep 
awake. This morning I saw it was all true. Then 
I ran away — after the black-eyed man came — 
to find this gentleman, the only one I knew who 
would be kind to me, and to ask him what I 
should do. Now — I — oh, sir ! It can’t be true 
that he is dead, too !” 

“ There, there ! Don’t give way ; your story 
is a strange one. It throws no light upon this 
terrible thing. But you will have to answer 


AT THE doctor’s HOUSE 87 

the coroner’s questions, and, perliaj^s, lie can 
draw out from you more than you have told me. 
I do not suspect you, child, of having a hand in 
the matter, but — you were the last person seen 
with him during his lifetime ; you will have to 
answer many questions. Think carefully before 
you speak ; every word you utter is weighted 
with terrible importance for good or ill. Now 
come.” 

The Squire opened the closed door between 
the smaller study and the great sitting-room, 
where a hastily-summoned jury had been con- 
vened. 

Jean followed him quietly. She had not at 
all understood the significance of his final ad- 
dress to her, nor did she dream of the new 
horror which her fellow-townsmen were prepar- 
ing for her lonely heart. She took the seat 
provided, gazed curiously but not timidly about 
her, and answered every inquiry made with a 
directness and minuteness which convinced 
most of those present that she was telling 
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
the truth.” 

When the inquest was over the decision was 
reached that Doctor Walford Disney had met 


88 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


liis death at the hands of some person or persons 
unknown/’ and that the authorities would make 
instant and persistent efforts to find and bring 
the murderer or murderers to justice. 

In addition to any reward the State may see 
fit to offer, I will give one thousand dollars of 
my own money to any person who will bring 
me any information leading to the capture or 
identification of the guilty person or persons,” 
cried the Squire, as the meeting was adjourned, 
and then promptly cleared the house of all in- 
truders. 

When they found themselves quite alone, 
Jean asked : ‘‘ What did it mean that you 
promised to be responsible for my appearance, 
sir r 

Oh, you are an important witness, that’s all. 
Tliough, after all, you seem to know really very 
little. Now, tell me about your grandfather. 
What were you going to ask my poor friend to 
do for him ?” 

“ I thought he could have helped me bury 
him. I did not know who else to ask.” 

Humph ! The town will have to do it, 
then. Now — stay, though. Have you had 
anything to eat this morning ?” 


AT THE doctor’s HOUSE 89 

‘‘No, sir. But I am not hungry. You 
gave me so much yesterday.” 

“Well, well! Are you in the habit of eat- 
ing up ahead of time, so that you go over 
regular meal hours without knowing it?” 
demanded the hearty Squire, distracted for a 
moment from the anxiety which perplexed him. 

“ I don’t care for anything to eat, but, sir, 
would you please read this for me ?” Jean 
took from the bosom of her frock a paper 
which she had pinned there for safe-keeping, 
when she had received it at her grandfather’s 
hand. Fortunately it had been too large to go 
inside the leathern bag with the strange, old 
key, or it would have shared the same fate as 
that. 

The Squire looked toward the letter and saw 
a big, bulky, legal-looking paper, which would 
take time to peruse. Just then he could not 
bear to waste a moment till he had set detec- 
tives on the track of the unknown criminal 
who had brought sorrow and disgrace upon the 
pretty town of Chelsea. 

“ Yes, some time. Not now ; I’m too busy. 
Go into the kitchen and tell Hannah to give 
you a breakfast.” 


90 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Jean watched the old man catch up his 
hat and depart, but she did not ask for the 
breakfast she had been bidden to seek. A sud- 
den overpowering sense of her own desolate 
position in life made her bury her face in her 
hands and cry bitterly. 

Say, girl ; did you do it 

Jean looked up swiftly, recalled by the touch 
upon her shoulder to a sense of her surround- 
ings. The face bent above her was that of a 
youth of nineteen or twenty, who looked stupid, 
yet crafty. There was something in his ex- 
pression that reminded Lady Barefoot of the 
intruder of the morning, and she shrunk from 
the questioner as if a snake had touched her, 
but she asked, quietly : ‘‘ Did I do what ?” 

‘‘You know. There’s a big reward offered, 
and I mean to have it. I believe you — mur- 
dered him, and I’ll make you answer for it, 
too!” 

The speaker was Peterkin Rideout, whom 
Jean recognized as the “Doctor’s workman,” 
though there was a strange, dreadful look about 
him that made him seem a stranger, and his 
words had a low, ominous sound that terrified 
her afresh. 


AT THE doctor’s HOUSE 


91 


She gave one frightened glance toward him, 
and then, before he could speak again, she 
darted out of the house and out of the grounds, 
leaving her tor men ter stupefied with the 
promptness of her flight, and settled by it in 
the conviction of his slow, suspicious mind. 


CHAPTER VIII 


ANGELIA PARTHENIA TODD 

Chitter — chatter !” A whisk through the 
air, a sudden streak of something reddish and 
furry — a something which, in that desolate mo- 
ment, seemed to poor Lady Barefoot like a 
sunbeam gone astray, and Whisker, the loving 
and faithful, was on Jean’s shoulder, his sharp 
little voice apparently expostulating with her 
for her unkind desertion of him an hour or two 
before. 

You darling i Have you followed me all 
this way, and waited till I came out of that 
horrid place ? Then one thing loves me— ^is left 
to me.” 

Jean scarcely checked her flying footsteps, 
though, even for this unexpected proof of 
Whisker’s intelligent affection. She but clasped 
his lithe little body tenderly to his favorite 
92 


ANGELTA PARTHENIA TODD 


93 


resting-place between her cheek and her 
shoulder, and ran onward as fast as her already 
wearied feet would carry her. 

How strange it seems ! As if I must go on 
and oil and on forever ! As if I travel fast and 
far enough I may forget that dreadful thing the 
workman said to me. But everywhere I shall 
be afraid. Oh, my foot ! The place I bruised 
so yesterday when I jumped on the jagged stone, 
hurts awfully. But — I must not stop ! I must 
not stop ! He asked me did I hurt him. The 
only friend I had, except Grandfather. Oh, 
how — what will become of him, now ? All 
alone in the cabin ; or is the dreadful man there 
still.” The thoughts chased one another 
through the girPs tortured brain with a fresh 
torment in each, and coming to a sudden bend 
in the road she had blindly followed, she dashed 
down a leafy ravine, to rest a moment and shape 
her future course. 

Hello, here ! What naiad of the sylvan 
dell is this ?” demanded a high-pitched, girlish 
voice, as Jean’s reckless progress was rudely 
terminated by her stumbling over a leaf-covered 
stone, and falling headlong into the very lap 
of the questioner. ''By my soul, but thou 


94 


MY LABY BAREFOOT 


art an impulsive maiden — fair though thou 
art/^ 

Jean scrambled to her feet and gazed witli 
astonishment upon the girl she had bombarded 
so unexpectedly. — beg your pardon. I 

didn’t know — ” 

Don’t mention it,” said the other, with a 
melodramatic wave of her hand. Between 
gentlefolk a word is sufficient. But why such 
needless haste, may I ask, and can I assist you ? 
Your foot seems hurt and bleeding.” The words 
were absurdly lofty, and the manner affected, 
but the tone was kindly, and looking more crit- 
ically upon the stranger, Lady Barefoot be- 
held a girl of about her own age, with a mass 
of brilliant colored hair, and very fine eyes ; 
but with a plain face, bountifully bedecked with 
freckles, and a general appearance of poverty 
almost as great as her own. 

The stranger did not resent the hasty scrutiny 
of her person and returned it in kind. “Well, 
I trust we should not mistake one another should 
we meet again amid the surging crowds which 
fill these mighty forests !” exclaimed the miss of 
the auburn locks, and again Jean gazed about 
in amazement. 



“—AMID THE SURGING CROWDS WHICH FILL THESE MIGHTY 

FORESTS—’’ 


K- 






. V 


A 




W >> 

r K.. 


' r 










y 




j 


< : 


,,»>"« . 


E^:V 


ANGELIA PARTHENIA TODD 


95 


Crowds ! Mighty forests ! I do not under- 
stand/’ 

“ I see that you do not. Be seated — upon the 
divan yonder — in other terms, sit down upon 
that ‘ stun ’ and I will tell you who I am, — leav- 
ing it to your royal highness to do a like favor 
to me or no, as seemeth good unto thee !” 

Jean put her hands to her forehead. She be- 
gan to think that she and all the world had gone 
crazy together. 

“ Nay, tremble not, sweet maiden. I am per- 
fectly sane and too, too physically sound ! I am 
Angelia Parthenia Todd. I am ‘ bound-out ’ 
girl to Farmer Wilkins. I was born in a poor- 
house, but I will die in a palace. I am studying 
— for the public platform ! I will be a famous 
impersonator, reader, elocutionist !” (Impossi- 
ble to give the full effect of these high-flown 
aspirations in cold English.) That’s what I 
mean to be. At present I am planning the first 
step toward success. I am running away. That 
is, I have been running till I got tired and sought 
this secluded nook to muse awhile and plan the 
next step — onward and upward ! I have thrown 
myself upon your mercy. I have trusted you — 
now betray me if you will !” cried the strange 


96 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Angelia in tones which made Jean shiver, and 
might have thrilled a far more critical audience. 

‘^Running away! For good?’^ she asked, 
breathlessly. 

For good. The ill I have left behind me. 
Look at these hands ! Degraded by milking of 
the kine, reaping of the fields, washing of the 
soiled clothing of a mercenary man and woman ! 
I have lived with them three years. They have 
sent me to school, for which I thank them. 
That opened the key to a higher life for me. 
That and an old copy of Shakespeare, which a 
summer boarder left behind her on her flitting. 
If I had remained with Farmer Wilkins three 
years longer I should have had a hundred dol- 
lars and a new frock. For six years of toil I 
But I deserted. I will never, never, never re- 
turn till I drive up to their door in a coach 
drawn by four black horses, with velvet on my 
shoulders and diamonds in my hair. I have 
vowed it ! and what Angelia Parthenia Todd 
has vowed she will fulfill. Unless,’’ she added 
in a very different tone, you should be mean 
enough to tell them where I am, and then they’ll 
catch me and make me go back.” 

I shall not tell,” said Jean, earnestly. “ I 


ANGELIA PARTHENIA TODD 


97 


couldn’t, because I don’t know them, and be- 
cause — because — ’ ’ 

Because what ?” 

‘‘I — I am running away — myself!” 

“So? ‘There’s sympathy!’ as old Falstaff 
hath it ! Your hand, sister in adventure ! Let 
us, two friendless damsels, unite our fortunes, 
and vow eternal friendship !” And the queer 
creature held out her labor-hardened hand with 
a heartiness and friendliness smiling from her 
wonderful eyes that entirely captivated the sor- 
rowful Jean. 

“Do you mean it? Shall we be — friends — 
like you said ? Or is that part of your re- 
citing ? ’Cause I know about Shakespeare. 
My grandfather had the book and used to 
read it, day in and day out.” 

“ Your grandfather was a sensible man. And 
I do mean it ! Poor child, I feel as if I were 
ages older than you, and sent into the world 
expressly to take care of you !” 

“Do you?” cried Lady Barefoot, clasping 
her hands, ecstatically. 

“ I do — I do. I promise you !” 

“ Chitter — chatter.” Jean looked up into 
the tree above her head. There sat her 


98 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


beloved squirrel, eating his breakfast com- 
placently. 

Whisker, too ? He’s my squirrel.” 

‘‘ You, and all belonging to you. Even a 
base-born squirrel. Will you trust me ?” 

^^Yes,” answered Jean, impulsively, '‘with 
all my heart.” 





> A - ’ 







CHAPTER IX 


READING THE LETTER 

You tell me all about yourself now/’ said 
Angelia Parthenia Todd, as soon as they had 
exchanged the warm caress which sympathy in 
sorrow had provoked. Then I shall know 
just how and what to do.” 

The romantic girl had quite dropped her 
affected tone and now spoke with as simple a 
good will as Jean herself could have done; and 
the latter found the change most agreeable. She 
had formed a sudden affection for the prospect- 
ive performer,” but it was founded upon the 
evidence of a kind heart, not great talent ; and 
without any hesitation Lady Barefoot now 
related the few facts of her short life, with the 
more astonishing and terrible events of the past 
twenty-four hours. 


99 


100 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


When she had finished Angelia asked : 
‘‘ Where is that letter 

‘‘ Here. In my frock. But what good will 
it do ? I dare not go back to ask the Squire to 
read it. Say, what do they do with people who 
murder other people 

‘‘ Hang ’em,’’ responded Angelia Parthenia, 
with prompt composure. 

Oh — h !” groaned Jean. 

“ Well, they’d ought to, hadn’t they ?” 

— I suppose so. But death is so — so — 
awful — dreadful !” 

Well, then, folks shouldn’t go ’round mur- 
dering. I hope they will catch the man that 
came to your house and hang him ‘ as high as 
Haman.’ I believe he was the very villain 
that killed Doctor Disney.” 

Jean shuddered afresh. 

‘‘ What you shivering for ? Are you cold ?” 

'' Yes, but it wasn’t that. The dreadful 
Peterkin said — he believed it was — I. Don’t 
you remember ?” 

I remember, yes. But it wasn’t, was it ?” 

‘‘ You know it wasn’t !” 

“ So will everybody else that has a grain of 
sense. As for Peterkin — he’s crazy !” 


READING THE LETTER 


101 


Is he ? Do you know him 
Don’t I ?” asked Angelia, which was a 
non-committal manner of answering a too-plain 
question. Her present intention was to com- 
fort Jean, and though she was too truthful a 
girl to tell a falsehood, she did not see any 
harm in letting her new friend conclude that 
she not only knew Peterkin, but all his tribe. 

“ As for Doctor Disney, he was a gentleman. 
I saw him time and again.” This was literally 
correct, for Angelia had seen the honored 
physician just twice, when he had come to 
Farmer Wilkins’ house to buy poultry. 

I did love him !” said Jean. 

So did I. That is — I should if he had 
been as good to me as he was to you. But 
owing to the jealousy of my employers, I was 
generally kept in the background when notable 
persons called at the domicile. However, 
their day of reckoning will come. One day of 
it will come along about Thanksgiving, when 
all the Wilkinses, big and little, will hie them 
to their ancestral hall-bedrooms, there to par- 
take of the fatted turkeys and the mince-pies, 
all of which for three weary years have been 
prepared by the skillful fingers of the missing 


102 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Miss Todd. They generally gave me one of 
the drumsticks and as much of the pie as the 
grandchildren left on their plates. But that is 
past — all, all is past. Give me the letter. I 
will read it and learn what was your grand- 
father’s will concerning you.” 

Can you read writing? Beally?” asked 
Jean, with unbounded admiration. 

Yes, indeed. And I think it’s queer if 
you can’t, with a relative who believed in 
Shakespeare !” 

Grandfather said that learning was not 
meant for women ; and when I asked him to 
teach me, he would frown and say that reading 
made a girl discontented. But I do not believe 
it would have made me so.” 

The miserable old wretch !” 

Of whom are you speaking ?” demanded 
Lady Barefoot hotly. 

At this moment I am thinking of Farmer 
Wilkins,” answered Angelia with a sudden 
mental movement which made this the truth — 
when she uttered it. However, since you are 
to be under my care henceforward, the first thing 
I shall do is to teach you all I know.” 

‘‘ Oh, you dear, good, kind girl !” 


READING THE LETTER 


103 


Hm-m, I mean to be all that, anyway. 
Now let me take the letter, if you trust me.’^ 
You know I do trust you with all my heart. 
Here it is ; big, and sealed and everything. 
What does it say on the outside 

To ‘ Squire Dutton, in charge for Jean 
Montgomery Wilder.^ My, haven’t you got 
a nice name?” 

Have I ? I am glad. But I didn’t know it. 
The boys in the village used to laugh at me and 
call me ‘ Lady Barefoot.’ I used to be afraid 
of them. But their hatefulness doesn’t seem like 
anything now — since this big, big trouble has 
come. Ought we to break that seal ?” 

Certainly we ought. How else shall we 
learn what your deceased relative wanted you to 
know ? Here, you shiver all the time, take my 
shawl and put it on. It’s thin and ragged, but 
some time I will lend you a cloak of silken 
sheen. You see if I don’t.” 

I hope you’ll have one like it for yourself 
if you want it. But I cannot bear to take your 
shawl, you’ll be cold then, and I’m used to it. 
I can’t remember when I was not cold out of 
doors after the leaves began to fall. We had a 
good fire in the cabin, because the woodmen were 


104 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


always good to me, and would leave great heaps 
of branches where I could get them and drag 
them home to keep us warm. So I didn’t mind 
as much when I went outside. But read if you 
can, then I want to go on. I’m so afraid some- 
body will follow and find me. That Peterkin.” 

“ Let Peterkin go hang !” cried Angelia Par- 
thenia, heartlessly. “ I hope he’ll be punished 
for every 23ang he has made you suffer. But let 
Peterkin go. We can afford to be — mag — nan- 
i — mous.” She enunciated this polysyllable 
with all the power of which she was capable, and 
Jean shuddered as if she had heard a terrible 
threat. Noav the letter ; watch me break the 
seal. It really is like a drama. Here we are in 
the forest ; two runaways from tyranny and dis- 
tress; we have met and found our souls con- 
genial ; we have united our fortunes forever. 
For life or death, I stick to J. Montgomery 
Wilder ! Ditto, J. Montgomery, aforesaid, by 
A. Parthenia Todd. Now is the hour of Fate, 
with a capital F. For weal or woe — crick-crack 
goes the seal.” 

Jean forgot that she was cold in the intensity 
of her eagerness, as her companion unfolded the 
long piece of paper and read the absurdly brief 


READING THE LJ:TTER 


105 


letter which was written therein, and which ran 
thus : 

To THE Family of Montgomery, 

No. 333 Palatial Avenue, New York : 

The bearer of this letter is your niece and 
cousin, Jean, the daughter of tliat Jean Mont- 
gomery who married Harold Wilder, son of 
Israel Wilder, late of Beacon Street, Bos- 

ton, but deceased at Chelsea, in the State of New 
York. I have left her, Jean Montgomery 
AVilder, all my worldly possessions, and what is 
far better, a mind absolutely free from prejudice 
of every sort. She has grown up in the woods on 
top of a mountain, and she knows neither good 
nor bad. Take her from my hands, and as you 
treat her, so shall she treat you in the day of 
reckoning. The key which I have given her is 
the key to the fortune I bequeath her. AVhen 
that is discovered there will also be found my 
last will and testament, duly drawn and wit- 
nessed, of which this intimates the purport. 

AVritten to be delivered to the aforesaid Jean 
Montgomery AVilder on the day when I shall 
anticipate my own death. 

(Signed) Israel Wilder. 

Dated, October 1st, 18 — . 

For a moment after Angelia^s clear voice had 
finished the reading, neither girl spoke. Then 


106 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Jean cried softly : Niece and cousin ! Then I 
am not friendless — as I thought 

The other did not speak. Romantic to ex- 
travagance in all her untrained notions, she had 
accepted the meeting as but the first ste]) in the 
public career which she had marked out for her- 
self, and of which she was so profoundly ignorant. 
And this revelation of what must mean happi- 
ness to her new friend made the bound-out ” 
girl feel more desolate than she had felt when, 
sitting in the glen alone, before Jean^s appear- 
ance at her side, she had realized how rash an 
act she had committed by cutting herself loose, 
even from an uncongenial household, where she 
was, at least, warmed and fed, to face the world 
alone and penniless. 

Aren’t you glad, dear Angelia Parthenia ?” 

For you — I am.” But the fine eyes were 
filled with tears, and the freckled face had grown 
pale. 

But for yourself, too ? Because, if they take 
me and love me, they will you, too. Haven’t 
we promised to stick together ? Why, you seem 
just like you were my very own, some way ; like 
you were Grandfather’s girl, too. Of course, 
you’ll be glad, won’t you ?” 


READING THE LETTER 


107 


Oh, yes, indeed ! If it’s to be that way. 
But just for a minute, I thought I’d found you 
only to let you go again. And — well, that 
settles our plans for us, without any trouble to 
ourselves. We must go and find Number 333 
Palatial Avenue. That’s in my original line, 
too, for it was to New York I was bound, to 
seek my new career. So let’s be off!” Up 
jumped the active, healthy girl with such 
prompt readiness that she inspired Jean also 
with fresh courage ; though the latter had 
begun to remember how long she had halted in 
such dangerous proximity to Chelsea and Peter- 
kin, her enemy. 

‘‘All right. Only — do you suppose any- 
body will bury Grandfather, if I don’t go 
back?” 

“ Ye — es. Of course they will.” But Miss 
Todd’s voice had not the confident ring of the 
previous moment. 

“ I see. You think they will, ’cause they’ll 
have to. But they wouldn’t do it as I would, 
for being sorry. Would they ?” 

“No — 0 . I don’t — believe — they would. 
From what you tell me of him — I guess Mr. 
AVilder didn’t make many acquaintances.” 


108 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


No. Nobody ever came to the house. Only 
once in a while the woodmen or a stranger pass- 
ing through. Strangers always seemed a little 
afraid of my grandfather, though ; and he liked 
best to be alone.’’ 

‘‘ What makes you rub your foot like that ? 
Does it hurt you so bad ?” 

It does pain, terribly.” 

Here. Let me see. One thing I learned 
of Mother Wilkins was what she calls ^ yarbs.’ 
There is something grows for almost every 
disease. I mean a cure for it. I’ll pick some 
of those plantain leaves yonder, and bind them 
on. Then you must put on my shoes. Your 
feet are so small they will not feel the shoe 
hurt the bruise, and the wound will be ever so 
much better by to-morrow.” 

I’m afraid to stay here any longer. What 
if that bad workman should come ?” 

He’ll not. There’ll be too much excitement 
around home for him to tear himself away at 
present. Besides, I don’t doubt he thinks he 
can hunt you up any time. That is, if he ever 
thinks at all, which I can hardly believe. He 
doesn’t know anything, does Peterkin Kideout !” 

Ten minutes later Jean’s injured foot had 


READING THE LETTER 


109 


been bathed and bandaged with a strip from 
Angelia Parthenia’s apron, clothed in that 
kindly damsehs own foot-gear, and made to 
feel, as Angelia herself expressed it, like a 
new foot/’ Then they returned to the subject 
of their flight, and the more they discussed it 
the more determined Jean became to return 
and do what she could for her grandfather’s 
fitting burial, no matter how great the risk to 
herself. 

“Well, if you will, you will ! and I’ll go, too, 
to help you. But I think we had better leave 
it until night. It will be moonlight and we can 
see what we need to, and there will be less 
danger of interruption. Most folks are scared 
of a dead person, and there won’t be anybody 
call at the cabin after dark. Not unless I’m 
greatly mistaken,” remarked the shrewd An- 
gelia, who had learned considerable worldly 
wisdom of the despised Mrs. Wilkins, along 
with the preparation of substantial cookery. 

“ But where can we go for all day ?” 

“ I know an old barn not far from here. I 
had intended to sleep there to-night if I didn’t 
get a chance to get clear of the neighborhood 
to-day. I calculate that the Wilkinses will raise 


110 


MY LADY BAEEFOOT 


hue and cry after me soon as they find out I 
didn’t go to the store as they sent me, — though 
I have played truant once in a while before, so 
I reckoned they’d give me a little time first, to 
come back of my own accord. We can go there, 
maybe. But we’ll have to keep in the shadow 
of the brush, else we’ll be seen.” 

« Very well. I will do all you say that I can, 
and I wouldn’t be so determined about Grand- 
father — only — ” 

That’s what they call natural affection, I 
suppose. I often heard Mrs. Wilkins tell her 
husband he didn’t have ‘ nateral ’fection ’ when 
he wouldn’t give his tipsy son all the money 
that hopeful young man desired. ‘ Bub ’ was 
his mother’s darling — great lout that he was. 
And — wait a minute ! Have you had anything 
to eat to-day ?” 

No. I’m not hungry.” 

My goodness gracious ! Not hungry ? A 
fine grown girl like you ! Then there is some- 
thing wrong somewhere. Now, I — I’m always 
hungry. That was the most frequent bone of 
contention between Mother Wilkins and yours 
truly. I never could get enough, and she 
always thought I was overfed. It was the rock 


READING THE LETTER 


111 


on which we split. But Angelia Parthenia 
Todd was not the person to set out for fortune’s 
house upon an empty stomach. See here!” 

Swiftly, yet cautiously, the strange girl ran 
to a pile of loose stones near, and moving one of 
them revealed a big bundle, or rather a Canvas 
bag, such as farmers use for carrying potatoes 
to market, and opening it, displayed therein more 
food than Jean Wilder had ever seen at one time 
in her life. 

“ Why, Angelia 1 Where did you get it ?” 

Took it in exchange for the wages I didn’t 
take, but to which I am justly entitled. There, 
my dear comrade, is the result of three years’ 
hard toil. Let’s ‘ tick ’ it off. One ham, boiled 
out in the meadow behind the poultry house 
after my employers were asleep ; one pair of fat 
chickens, roasted while Pa and Ma Wilder had 
‘ driv inter town ter meetin’ ; as fine a batch of 
doughnuts as Angelia Parthenia ever touched 
hand to make ; bread — two fine fresh loaves ; 
butter, a cute little glass barrel — used to hold 
mustard — full ; a cup, a plate, a knife, a fork, a 
box of matches, a candle, and — a Testament, and 
my beloved ^ Will Shakespeare.’ ” 

« Why, isn’t it stealing ? Are you sure you 


112 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


did right? And what is the * Testament ’ ? Isn’t 
that what Grandfather’s letter spoke about ?” 

‘‘ What a girl to ask questions ! First, I am 
perfectly sure I am right. I have not been 
treated to much purple or fine linen during the 
three years in which I have faithfully toiled for 
the Wilkinses, big and little. I take these 
things, but I left a letter in their place explain- 
ing why ; and that I intend some time to ride 
back, as I told you, when I will return them 
with interest. The Testament is not the sort 
your grandfather left. This is a book that I 
love. It is the only book I ever owned besides 
the Shakespeare I bought. It was given to 
me by a nice old minister who came to the farm 
one winter a ‘ missionizing,’ and who thought 
that a ‘ bound'Out ’ girl had a soul to save, which 
was a new idea to the Wilkinses. No ; I know 
I am not doing wrong, and when I get to New 
York I’m going to hunt up the missionary and 
tell him everything. But we’ll have lots of time 
to talk, so we had best be moving. Do you 
think you could carry one end of this bag? It 
was awful heavy — strong as I am.” 

I could carry it alone !” cried Jean, her 
cheerful nature already restored to its ordinary 


READING THE LETTER 


113 


condition by the meeting with Angelia Par- 
thenia and its friendly results. So, limping 
along on her lame foot, yet still smiling brightly 
and quite forgetful for the time being of any 
dark sorrow. Lady Barefoot assumed her share 
of their comfortable burden and crept after her 
guide to the deserted barn the latter had in 
mind. 

There they remained all day, feasting, ex- 
changing confidences, sometimes dozing ; but 
when the night had really settled over the earth, 
they left their hiding-place and hurried to the 
cabin which had been poor Jean’s home. 

Let me go first,” said Angelia, ready then as 
ever afterward to take the hardest and most 
dangerous part of any experience for the love of 
the beautiful girl who had become her charge, 
and adopted little sister.” 


8 


CHAPTER X 


A MIDNIGHT BURIAL 

Are you sure you are not afraid ?” 

Angelia Parthenia Todd is not afraid of 
anything but wrong doing/’ responded that re- 
markable young person, loftily. '‘Follow me. 
I will protect you against powers natural and 
supernatural. Have confidence.” 

Jean was silent. She could not always follow 
the flights of imagination which Angelia dis- 
played, and even the excellent English which 
her grandfather had been used to speak, seemed, 
somehow, a tame and every-day sort of language 
by comparison with that of her new friend. 

Angelia’s vocabulary was, indeed, a mixed 
assortment of Scriptural, Shakespearean, and 
illiterate phrases, picked up from the two volumes 
which had formed her sole library, and from the 
speech of the farmer folk with whom she had 
114 


A MIDNIGHT BURIAL 


115 


lived. The truth was that Miss Todd always 
believed herself to be descended from some 
illustrious family, although Fate ’’ had decreed 
that she should open her eyes first in an humble 
poorhouse, and she was constantly holding her- 
self up to a fitting condition of mind to t^lke her 
“ rightful place in society ” whenever that society 
should be willing to receive her. 

The two girls now advanced into the bare 
apartment from which Jean had that morning 
fled in such fear. It was evident at the first 
glance that nobody had cared enough for the 
poor old miser to look after his proper 
burial, and Angelia^s lip curled in scorn as she 
observed the motionless figure lying on the floor 
where it had fallen when the black-eyed visitor 
of the morning had set his foot on the threshold. 

Humph ! I told you so. And I am glad, 
after all, that we came back. But how strange 
that he should die, lying in such a position 
exclaimed she. 

What ? Let me see !” All Jean’s grief and 
regret had returned, and she now forgot her 
fear. Then she pressed forward before her com- 
panion, only to pause with a cry of dismay at 
the sight which met her loving eyes. “ Oh, how 


116 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


dreadful ! Poor, poor Grandfather ! Who 
could have thrown him there 

Why ? Was he not there all the time?’’ 

“ No, no ! He lay upon the pallet as if he 
were asleep. I could not think but that he was 
— only he was so cold and still.” 

Hm — m. I guess it was this way. That 
man who came here must have been a robber; 
he must have searched Mr. Wilder’s clothing 
to find whatever money he might have had 
about him. But, no matter. It is just the same. 
The poor old gentleman could not have suffered 
from his fall, and we have no time to lose. 
There, there ! Don’t cry, dear, though I’m 
sure I feel like doing it myself. I suppose I 
had a grandfather once. I wonder who he w^as ? 
Now, can you tell me where to find the shovel 
you spoke about. I want to dig the grave.” 

Jean shuddered; but she put a restraint upon 
herself and tried to emulate Angelia’s courage 
and activity, though the tears blinded her eyes 
so that she could hardly see. 

This way ; it is in the little shed where we 
kept the branches to use after snow fell.” She 
led the way to the place and found the broken, 
rickety tool she had mentioned earlier in the 


A MIDNIGHT BURIAL 


117 


day as one that they could use for their grue- 
some task. 

And the spot behind the rock, where the 
earth is soft — show me that,” said the bound- 
out girl, as cheerfully as if she were going to 
assist farmer Wilkins dig potatoes. The truth 
was that her own nerves were sorely tried by 
the experiences of the day, and the task upon 
which she had entered seemed too terrible 
for her to accomplish. Still, not a hint of 
this would she allow to escape her lest she 
should break down utterly the last bit of 
courage which poor little Jean was able to 
retain. 

Besides, she had been doing considerable 
thinking during the day ; and upon these 
sober “ second thoughts ” she began to attach 
more importance to Peterkin Bideout’s horrid 
suspicion than she would have liked Lady 
Barefoot to know. Her short taste of life, as 
a bound-out,” had not tended to exalt hu- 
manity in Angelia Parthenia’s clever eyes, and 
she knew that a thousand dollars, to such 
a person as Peterkin, would outweigh a 
good many scruples of conscience or kindliness. 
And, though the aforesaid young man might 


118 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


be crazy, as she had promptly decided, even a 
crazy person is able to infect other, and more 
sensible people, with evil notions. 

There’s nothing most folks enjoy so much 
as making trouble,” remarked Miss Todd to 
herself, and she hurried the preparations for 
Israel’s simple burial as much as she could. 

Is there anything else we could dig with ?” 
asked she, after she had found the place which 
Jean pointed out and had removed a few shovel- 
fuls of earth. 

‘‘There’s a little bit of shovel, besides. We 
used it to take up the ashes when they made 
too big a pile on the hearth, and to pull the 
potatoes out from them when we had roasted 
them. We did have potatoes sometimes.” 

“ Bring it. It won’t hurt you half so much 
to help as it will to stand and watch and trem- 
ble at every sound.” 

Jean obeyed, though she dreaded to enter the 
cabin alone, now it was tenanted only by what 
had once been life. Yet, as soon as her eyes 
fell once more upon her grandfather’s form, a 
sudden memory of all his few kindnesses to her 
returned to soften her mood and to turn her 
fear to tenderness. 


A MIDNIGHT BURIAL 


119 


Poor dear ! I’m glad I did come back. I 
should never have been able to think of you in 
peace, if I had not. You shall lie as comfort- 
ably as we can fix you, dear,” she said, patting 
softly the unresponsive shoulder, and smoothing 
the few locks which had escaped the fire. 

Jean, are you coming?” anxiously. 

Yes.” And though Angelia scrutinized 
her friend’s face with anxiety she was relieved 
to find that it had lost its former look of terror 
and was now only sad and gentle. 

“ Let’s dig as fast as we can. Let’s count a 
hundred and see which throws out a hundred 
spadesful first.” 

But your shovel is the bigger. You are 
doing the most of the work !” expostulated Jean, 
and it should be I, instead, that should do 
that.” 

Ten !” cried Angelia. Work — eleven — 
don’t talk — or — twelve. I’m glad the earth is 
soft here. Queer it should be, when — thirteen 
— there are so many — fourteen — rocks all 
around.” 

‘‘ I don’t know how to count. Not more than 
one twenty-five cents or so. Though, if it were 
all given to me in quarter dollars I could count 


120 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


a great deal of money. As much as Doctor Disney 
ever gave me for the animals.’’ 

Never mind, then, I’ll count for both. And 
I’ll begin your education to-morrow. You’ve 
been shamefully neglected. Now I, as poor as 
you are, maybe a great deal poorer, can do a 
sum in addition up as high as carrying one. 
Twenty-five ! We’re getting along. What did 
you say made it soft ?” 

‘‘ It was our garden. We raised some things 
sometimes. Not often. But Grandfather had 
some cabbages grow here this last summer. He 
used to come out here and spade and spade. He 
did it for exercise, ’cause he wouldn’t ever go to 
the village if he could help it. He hated 
people.” 

Forty ! It’s quite deep already.” 

“ How deep must we make it ?” 

‘‘ I’ll tell you when to stop. And the only 
way I know how to measure it is for one of us 
to lie down in the hole when we think it is big 
enough, and see. It would have to be a little 
bigger for a man, though he isn’t a very big 
man.” 

After that nothing was said, till finally An- 
gelia became exhausted by her hard labor, 


A MIDNIGHT BURIAL 


121 


which she had never intermitted even for 
a moment, and paused to recover her spent 
breath. 

‘‘ Oh, Angelia ! I — I can^t — any more ! It 
seems — awful, doesn’t it ! But don’t folks have 
coffins when they are buried ?” 

‘‘Rich folks do, but they don’t sleep any 
better for that. I guess it’s deep enough. It 
isn’t a very good shape, but he knows, if he now 
does know anything, that we’re two poor little 
girls, and are doing the very best we can. I’ll 
measure it, and you tell if it suits you.” With- 
out any hesitation the helpful creature sprang 
down into the rude excavation they had made, 
and to her satisfaction found it more than broad 
and deep enough for their necessity. 

“ Now, we will bring him, and I will say a 
prayer and a verse out of my Testament. I 
know some by heart — lots of them. Then we’ll 
go. Come. I’m glad we came back, and I know 
the poor old gentleman will sleep as well here 
as the Queen of England will in her big tomb of 
gold and silver. I’d rather have the earth 
about me, anyway. It always smells so nice 
and sweet.” 

Reverently, and now without any fear, so 


122 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


deeply had they become absorbed in their hu- 
mane task, the two girls re-entered the cabin. 

We can wrap him in the coverlet. It is the 
best we have.’’ 

‘Wes. He was always warm enough in it, 
while he lived.” 

“ Now, let us take that fallen shutter for a 
bier. We can carry him best that way.” 

So they did. Placing the wasted, slender 
body of the recluse, already tenderly wrapped 
about with the only covering the house afforded, 
they bore him slowly toward his humble grave. 
Angelia walked in front, and Jean followed 
weeping, but for all that, her hold of the shutter 
did not loosen nor did her heart fail her for 
courage. 

When they had laid him to rest Angelia 
offered her simple prayer, and repeated the 
texts which she had been selecting as most 
appropriate, while she toiled at the spade, 
and then they gently covered with the loosened 
earth all that had once been one of Boston’s 
proudest citizens. 

“ I’d like to put some bright leaves over it,” 
said Jean, reaching to pluck a branch from the 
tree nearest the grave. 


A MIDNIGHT BURIAL 


123 


‘‘ Be quick, then ! I — I thought I heard 
something/^ 

“ What?^^ 

There was a moment^s pause before Angelia 
replied in a whisper, and pointing towards the 
ravine, which was now flooded by the moonlight. 

There are some men ; they are coming here ! 
At such an hour as this — the visit means — mis- 
chief ! Let’s get the bag of food — quick ! Come ! 
Not an instant to waste !” 

Jean’s eyes had followed her friend’s startled 
gesture, and two approaching figures were dis- 
tinctly seen. For a second she stood rooted to 
the spot in terror ; the next she was herself 
urging her companion forward frantically. “ It’s 
Peterkin Hideout and somebody else ! Up the 
mountain is the safest way !” 

But she did not know that up the mountain ” 
had been the very route taken by her ugly vis- 
itor of the morning before. 


CHAPTER XI 


PETEKKIN AND HIS CRYPTOGRAM 

Jean^s eyes had told her correctly. It was 
old Jeremiah Rideout and his son who now 
clambered across the deep ravine that separated 
the island -like hill on which the Wilder cabin 
stood from the surrounding mountains, and 
their errand boded no good to Lady Barefoot, 
had she been found where they supposed she 
would be. 

I tell ye, Pop, a thousan^ dollars is a power- 
ful big pile o’ cash ! It’s more’n any o’ our 
folks ever had to one time in their endurin’ 
lives, aint it ?” 

^‘Yes. But this ’ere is a wild goose chase, 
sure’s you live. Betwixt you an’ your ma, you 
can hatch up silly ideas enough ter drive a man 
crazy.” 

What ye come fer, then, if ye ’low I’m 

124 


PETERKIN AND HIS CRYPTOGRAM 125 


crazy a tliinkin^ that there skittish gal don^t 
know moreen she^s willin’ ter tell ’bout the 
Doctor’s takin’ off?” 

Jeremiah was prudently silent. He was avari- 
cious, but he was not altogether wanting in sense, 
as he sometimes believed his only son to be. He 
had, as Angelia Parthenia Todd surmised peo- 
ple would be, become infected with the notion 
which Peterkin had whispered into his ear at 
odd times during the day past, and between the 
sorrowful duties it had been his to perform for 
the dead master of Disney Farm. But after 
awhile, and when Peterkin had repeated his 
question with even more of insolent assurance, 
the old servant replied, ‘AVell! AVhat if I 
come along ter keep ye from scarin’ an inner- 
cent little creeter, like that there squirrel-gal 
out of a year’s growth ? Stranger things ’an 
that has — happened, sir, as I’d have you ter 
know! But, aint this a rough road? ’Twas 
long about here, some’res we found — it.” 

‘‘ No call to talk ’bout such things, as I knows 
on !” remonstrated Peterkin, looking timidly 
backward over his shoulder. Folks does say 
that the ^ haunts ’ o’ them ’at dies — like Doctor 
done — does most gen’ ally walk the airth o’ 


126 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


moonliglit nights. But I dunno as they begin 
so soon afterwards. I never heerd that dis- 
cussed either way.’’ 

Shet up ! I feel as if I was a cheatin’ the 
poor old Doctor, a cornin’ here ter question the 
2)urty little critter he used to be so good to. I 
s’pose he paid her twice as much as them ani- 
mals o’ her’n was wuth, an’ I never could reason 
it out, anyhow, why a sensible man could want 
the pesky live stock around. The more because 
they couldn’t neither give good milk nor lay 
eggs to eat. But every man’s silly ’bout some- 
thin’, an’ I ’low my silliness has took shape in 
my gallivantin’ up here at this time o’ night 
stidder goin’ ter bed as a respectable citizen 
should!” remarked Jeremiah, with some as- 
perity. 

A thousan’ dollars ! A hull — one — thousan’ 
dollars ! Besides that what the gov’ment ’ill 
offer!” murmured Peterkin, musingly. 

Jeremiah became silent, nor did he speak 
again until they had reached the deserted cabin 
and stood upon the threshold of the door which 
its last visitors had left wide open. 

Then he burst forth : What did I tell ye ! 
There ain’t a livin’ soul here ! I might a-knowed 


PETERKIN AND HIS CRYPTOGRAM 127 

there wouldn’t be, if I hadn’t took clean leave 
of what little sense I had left after goin’ 
through what I have this terrible day ! Now, 
all we have to do is to pike hum ag’in, like a 
passel o’ whipped curs ! Ever ketch me a lis- 
tenin’ ter any o’ your silliness in the futur’ ter 
come — an’ I’ll gin ye leave ter sass me all you 
like ! Come on. I’m a goin’ back.” 

What’s yer hurry. Pop ? If the girl ain’t 
here mebbe sunthin’ else is. They do say ’at 
old man Wilder was a miser, an’ powerful rich.” 

An’ what a village full o’ gossips say, must 
be so, I s’pose ! Looks like he’d been rollin’ in 
wealth, don’t it ?” and Jeremiah pointed sar- 
castically about the bare room. ‘‘ More ’an that, 
how do you know that the old feller is dead ? 
You hain’t nothin’ ter go by but that there girl’s 
word, an’ if she’s bad enough ter do what you 
think she is, she wouldn’t halt foot at lyin’, I 
reckon. Mebbe she was sent down inter town 
for a blind ; ter start a cock-an’-bull story ’bout 
her grandpa’s dyin’, too, jest ter throw folks off 
the track. What d’ye say ter that?” 

“ I dun no. I don’t say nothin’. But I hain’t 
dumb all this way two nights hand runnin’ ter 
go hum ag’in ’ithout findin’ out all the secrets 


128 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


an’ liidingses of this shanty. To-morrer’ll be 
too late. By that time the ossifers of the law ’ll 
take a hand in this ere business. They ain’t 
nobody goin’ ter let that thousan’ dollar offer lie 
’round ’itliout bein’ took up, less my name ain’t 
Peterkin John Bideout !” 

Every time he saw his father’s patience begin 
to wane this astute youth would mention the 
reward, and he was not such a simpleton after 
all, but that he had a pretty fair understanding 
of the Bideout character. 

Have you got any matches, Petey ?” asked 
the father in an altered tone. Cause I’d ruther 
have a light if it’s all the same to you.” 

Where ye goin’ ter get it ? I can see right 
well by this moonshine.” 

Your eyes is younger ’an your daddy’s Pe- 
terkin, my boy, and I fetched a candle along in 
my j)ocket. I thought it might come in handy. 
Have you got any ? It won’t do ye no good ter 
say no, ’cause them there ciggeretty things ’at 
your ma finds in your room has give ye away, 
my boy ; so jest hand me a match, if ye’re a 
mind ter.” 

Laughing as if he had been detected in a re- 
markably smart thing, Peterkin pulled out a 


PETERKIN AND HIS CRYPTOGRAM 129 


box of “ Lucifers/^ and offering some to his 
father, thrust the remainder back into his 
pocket. Jeremiah soon had the candle lighted, 
and by its aid to the moonlight the worthy pair 
proceeded to search every nook and cranny of 
the poor abode. 

‘‘ Wall, there aint nobody ner nothin’ here. 
A’n’t stuff enough in the hull consarn ter bring 
a sixpence if it was sold ter the highest bidder. 
Well, I swan! I’m tired! An’ bein’ as there 
don’t ’pear ter be nothin’’ ter hender, I’m going 
ter stop an’ rest a spell an’ get my breath afore 
I go down to the village ag’in. It’s a terrible 
hard ja’nt up here, and I’m clean tuckered out.” 

‘‘All right. Pop. You set an’ rest an’ I’ll 
poke round a spell. I know they must be 
sunthin’ hid hereabouts worth findin’, an’ I’m 
boun’ ter find it.” And saying that, Peterkin 
took the candle from his father’s hand and pro- 
ceeded to inspect the small cupboard on the wall. 
It contained nothing now, save the poor little 
supply of indian meal, from which Jean had 
been accustomed to make her porridge, and the 
few books and scraps of paper on which Israel 
Wilder had spent so much of his time. 

Peterkin passed over the books without curi- 
9 


130 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


osity, and shoved the dish of meal aside with 
the contempt his well-served appetite made nat- 
ural ; but over the scraps of paper, with their 
strange marks and figures, he paused a long 
time. Once Peterkin Pideout had read a book. 
A whole book, every page and word. It had 
been an infinite labor, and such toil would cer- 
tainly never have been expended upon any 
volume worthy to be read. But this tale had 
been one of most atrocious character, and had 
represented the worthless hero as living in the 
lap of luxury and of sin at the same time. 
Never had this morbid creation of some author’s 
brain desired the death of an enemy but he 
immediately died ; never had he wished for 
wealth but wealth was given him and in the 
most astonishing manner — of course wholly 
without labor on the hero’s part. At one time this 
fictitious person had found a mine of gold and 
precious stones ; and Peterkin had laid the 
book down with a covetous sigh. Since then he 
had been looking for his gold mine ” until the 
idea had become a term of derision, even on his 
doting mother’s lips. 

But the evil fruit of that wretched volume 
remained. As far as so weak-brained a fellow 


PETERKIN ANT) HTS CRYPTOGRAM IBl 

could determine, Peterkin John Rideout had de- 
termined that he would become rich by some 
such “ find ’’ as had fallen to his cherished hero, 
and as no man in real life does become rich — 
without honest toil of some sort. 

Poor silly Peterkin ! He had been searching 
for some ‘‘cryptogram which would be intel- 
ligible to his dull eyes as a guide to some secret 
treasure, and he had made the good Doctor with 
whom he lived no end of trouble by these sense- 
less rummages of his among that gentleman’s 
well-ordered papers. Now, he believed, fate 
had served him royally. Here were papers 
without limit, and all of them crossed by peculiar 
lines and dotted with strange hieroglyphics. It 
was — it must be the key to the hidden wealth 
of Miser Wilder ! 

A snore from the opposite side of the room 
nearly scared the searcher out of his little sense, 
but a glance across to his father convinced him 
that there was nothing supernatural about that 
snore. It was a snore wholly indigenous to the 
big Rideout nose, and it merely announced that 
the honest Jeremiah was asleep, after a day of 
unusual disturbance and toil. 

“ Good ! Sleep ahead, old feller, an’ if you 


132 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


carn’t stay awake long enough ter share in my 
good fortune I dunno as Til have any call ter 
tell ye ’bout it when you do wake up. Now, 
Petey, my boy, yer fortune’s made ! This here 
must be a map o’ — a map o’ — sunthin’ or other ! 
I wonder what ? Mebbe it’s the floor. Mebbe 
it’s the groun’ round the house. Mebbe — 
whatever can it be a map of, anyway ?” 

Alas for the restrictions of the Rideout intel- 
lect! The more Peterkin twisted and turned 
the papers, the more confused he became. Gen- 
erally, had he been wise enough to understand 
it, he had them upside down, but in any case 
they would have been all one to Peterkin John, 
and of no earthly value to any human being. 

I ’low it’s the floor. That there is the corn- 
der next the chimbley. An’ that — an’ that — 
I dunno, but I’m a-goin’ ter start from that 
chimbley-cornder an’ foller the crack o’ the 
board ’at looks nighest like this here drawn 
line an’ see what comes on’t. But I’ll go ter 
work soft. I’d hate to have Pop wake up now 
an’ spile the hull job with his raspin’ common 
sense ’at he always makes sech a talk about. 
But I ’low I’ve got ahead o’ him for once, an’ 
he carn’t never larf at me ag’in after cornin’ 


PETEKKIN AND HIS CRYPTOGRAM 133 

away up here in the dead night a-lookin’ fer 
a little bit o’ girl ’at we hain’t found, though 
they say she’s older’n she ’pears, only kinder 
small an’ delicate shaped like, though strong, too ! 
Strong enough ter do everything fer herself an’ 
that stingy grandfather o’ her’n. I sorter hate 
ter do her any harm — but a thousan’ dollars ! 
A hull — one thousan’ — dollars ! That ain’t ter 
be sneezed at !” 

As if to contradict this sensible statement, 
Jeremiah, at that very instant, gave a most 
prodigious sneeze. It was unpremeditated on 
Jeremiah’s part, but that worthy old man was 
not accustomed to taking naps in the full 
draft from a wide open door on a late October 
night, and when he was moist with perspiration 
after unusual exertion. But nevertheless, that 
sneeze nearly scared the mystery-probing Peter- 
kin into a fit, from which he recovered slowly. 

Gr-r-r-eat goodness ! Wh — at ai — Is Pop !” 
he murmured, his teeth chattering as if with 
ague. ‘^If — he — do — es — th — at — ag’in. I’ll — 
I’ll — anyhow I guess I’d better take off my 
shoes. I’d ruther have all I find myself!” 
thought this ungenerous son, and had squatted 
“ Turk fashion ” to remove his heavy ‘‘ brogans ” 


134 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


when he felt himself suddenly clasped about 
the waist with a vice-like grip, and saw a dark 
head lean forward over his shoulder to blow out 
the tell-tale candle. 

“ Wh — at — in — ’’ began Peterkin John ; but 
got no further before the one romance of his 
life was nipped in the bud, so to speak, by his 
being knocked senseless upon the floor he had 
set out to “ search for a key to the supposed 
cryptogram.” 


CHAPTER XII 


THE MEETING BY THE BOWLDEKS 

Meanwhile, after Jean and Angelia Par- 
thenia had discovered the approach of the 
Rideout father and son, they had sped upward 
along the wood-road which led to the top of the 
mountain behind the Wilder home, as fast as 
their encumbered state would allow them. 

For the prudent and chronically-hungry 
bound-out girl had no notion of leaving behind 
her the bag of provisions which it had cost her 
so much labor to procure, however strongly her 
companion might protest against the hindrance 
its carrying was to them. 

‘‘No, Jean. We’ll trust to the darkness and 
the shadows of the trees to help us ; but as for 
leaving that ham and those chickens — no, 
ma’am ! So you may as well not urge it. I 
know what is good for you, as well as for my- 

135 


136 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


self, if you don’t, and that is plenty of tasty, 
wholesome victuals, such as yours truly knows 
just how to prepare. Besides, if those Bide- 
outs are like most farmer folks they are not going 
to hurt themselves running. But the impudence 
of them ! Corning to your house in the dead of 
night!” 

“ I’m so thankful they didn’t come before we 
had finished what we had to do for Grandfather. 
Else — ” Jean shivered afresh. 

We should have done it anyway,” returned 
Angelia confidently. ‘‘ I can always find away 
to do what’s right, I guess. And all is, we 
would have had to wait until after they w'ent 
away and then have gone to work again. But 
^ all’s well that ends well,’ and we are as wise 
to move on now as if we hadn’t been frightened 
into it. We can sleep to-morrow.” 

‘^AVhere?” 

Don’t ask too many questions, miss. I 
don’t know where yet, but I know we shall 
sleep. That is a law of nature which two such 
healthy girls as we cannot break if we would.” 

I only hope, then, it will be in some safe 
place 1” cried Jean, speaking for the first time 
in a natural tone ; for as long as they had re- 


THE MEETING BY THE BOWLDERS 137 

iiiaiiied within close proximity to their mid- 
night visitors they had conversed only in a 
whisper. 

I shall take care about that. Yet, still, 
why should we act as if we had done something 
wrong ? I hate this moving about like guilty 
people. I did no wrong in running away, for I 
liad endured all the ill-treatment I could, and 
I had nobody to help me to a better life. So I 
just helped myself, that^s all. There are plenty 
of more girls in the poor-house, where I came 
from, so the Wilkins family need not suffer 
for help long. Poor wretch ! I wonder who 
she will be that will take my place. As 
for you, if ever there was an innocent creature 
on the face of the earth it is your sweet 
self. I’m not going to have you run about in 
hiding like this another minute. Come, let us 
go down this way. That little valley between 
the peaks looks safe and comfortable. It 
looks fairly safe enough for us to take a short 
nap in.” 

“ Do you think so ; really think so ?” 

Are you so tired, dear ? Your voice sounds 
so faint and weak.” 

‘‘ I’m awfully tired, and my foot hurts and 


138 


MY LADY BAEEFOOT 


my heart aches, and I am afraid of every shadow 
that falls across the path. If it were not for 
you I should die. I know I should !” And 
utterly overcome for the moment with the for- 
lornness of their situation, Jean dropped her 
head upon her companion's shoulder and began 
to cry softly. 

Angelia Parthenia was much disturbed. She 
understood, as has been said, and far better than 
her new friend understood, the perils which 
beset Lady Barefoot’s path, but she had also 
some fears on her own account, of which she 
had never spoken seriously to the other home- 
less girl. She had jestingly referred to a hue 
and cry ” that might be raised when her flight 
was discovered by the Wilkins family ; but in 
secret she wondered anxiously how far the 
‘‘ law ” would hold her under their power, and 
if her liberal preparation of food for a long 
journey might not be what Jean had suggested, 
really ‘‘stealing.” Altogether, Angelia Par- 
thenia felt that she should be much more at ease 
when the runaways had put a greater distance 
between themselves and the homes they had 
known, and it was trying to have Jean give out 
thus early on the trip. 


THE MEETING BY THE BOWLDEKS 189 

“ However, what can’t be cured must be 
endured,” reasoned the philosophical em- 
bryo actress, and resolutely put her fears 
behind her. All right, my dear, cry your 
cry out ; then you’ll feel better. I am not much 
for crying myself ; I’ve had too many hard 
knocks to have many tears left ; but I’ve seen 
Ma Wilkins cry over almost everything from a 
spoiled baking of bread to the death of a grand- 
child, and it always appeared to do her good. I 
suppose it is in some natures to be kind of weak 
around the eyes, but, thank fortune ! it isn’t in 
mine. However, that’s neither here nor there. 
But a good nap is right just here. Let us wrap our 
martial courage around us, even if we haven’t 
any ‘ martial cloak ’ with which to cover our- 
selves, and go to sleep. Then we’ll take an 
early breakfast and start on afresh. I wonder 
how far New York is, anyway ?” 

Diverted by a thought of a brighter future, 
with the readiness of youth they fell to discuss- 
ing the next stages of their journey, cuddled 
down together behind the friendly shelter of a 
pile of bowlders, and with their bag of food at 
their feet went sound asleep in one another’s 


arms. 


140 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


But scarcely bad their prolonged silence and 
regular breathing given proof that they had 
found in slumber a cure for jDresent ills than 
out of the shadow of those same rocks stole a 
wild looking figure. 

“ I must not wake them,” it muttered, “ but 
I must — I must have that food — if I have to 
kill them both. Well, a few more or less — 
what matter ? But what makes me tremble so ? 
They are nothing but girls ; I could crush either 
of them with these, hands that liave learned 
heavy strokes in those accursed mines ! Yet — ” 

The man stole nearer ; his thoughts almost 
taking audible form in his eagerness. There is 
nothing that so transforms a man ol low in- 
stincts as hunger. Let him be threatened with 
starvation, as this creature was, and he becomes 
a ravenous animal. 

Oh ! What it cost me to see them open that 
bag and take out that blessed food and eat it 
before my very eyes, while I dared not stir hand 
or foot to stop them !” 

Nearer and nearer he moved, always stealthily, 
always in abject fear — ol what ? A phantom, 
that would leave him never again. A mocking 
terrible phantom of a gentle old man with a 


THE MEETING BY THE BOWLDERS 141 

flowing wliite beard and silver locks. Back, 
phantom ! The animal in this human being is 
hungry ! Drive him not mad with thy pleading 
eyes, else he do these other innocent creatures 
some terrible harm. 

^‘Ah ! I smell it now ! How good — how good !’’ 

The crouching figure had quite reached the 
coveted treasure — the most valuable in this 
world to him now — the bag upon the closely- 
tied neck of which Angelia had rested her foot 
in protection. 

On going to sleep she had said : You see, 
dear, if any hungry dog or other animal comes, 
he cannot touch our stock in life without first 
awaking me. And there are no wild beasts 
about, in these woods, you know ; only a stray 
dog, now and then, roaming about among the 
farmers’ sheep-folds. It’s just as well to be 
careful.” 

It was not until he had stretched out his 
hand to take the sg-ck in his silent eagerness 
that the crouching thief perceived this ruse of 
the wise Angelia, and it startled him for a 
moment as if he had been struck. 

‘‘ Pshaw ! How nervous and afraid I have 
become ! Since — since last night. I used to 


142 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


be afraid of the lash, down there in the mines — 
but here ! Why can’t I forget that white-faced 
ghost ? And — I must — I will — have that food ! 
If I die for it the next minute !” 

With that he reached forth his grimy hand 
once more and firmly but gently seized the bag 
of food. Then he began to draw it lightly, 
cautiously backward toward himself, and as he 
did so, Angelia stirred. 

For the space of a moment thereafter neither 
robber nor victim moved. It was so still that a 
leaf falling to the ground made a distinct and, 
to the starving human being, a startling sound. 

Then he drew the sack toward him once 
more, and its passage over the dried herbage 
was like the roar of a thunderbolt in his ears. 
But he had passed beyond heeding that in an- 
other instant, for the rich aroma of the store 
beneath his very fingers then, had filled his 
nostrils and deadened every other sense. 

Ha ! It is good ! It is*good !” He did not 
utter the words aloud, but he had become wholly 
reckless and indifferent by then, as he tore limb 
from limb the daintily-prepared poultry and 
scarcely waited to swallow one portion before he 
had stuffed his capacious mouth with another. 


THE MEETING BY THE BOWLDERS 143 


How long he ate he did not know, perhaps 
for but a few moments, but there was little left 
within the canvas sack when he suddenly raised 
his eyes and beheld the clear eyes of Angelia 
Parthenia gleaming upon him out of the shadow 
where she lay. 

If the silence had been intense before, while 
the thief had waited for his victim to awake, it 
was doubly profound now, while these two 
human beings gazed into each other’s eyes with 
an earnestness of inquiry that would sound the 
depths of either soul. 

‘‘ Will you betray me?” the great black orbs 
of the hiding convict seemed to ask. 

Will you do us any harm ?” returned An- 
gelia’s courageous glance. 

Then an answer equally silent seemed to pass 
between them. Angelia turned her head for a 
moment and gazed upon the sleeping innocent 
girl beside her, the first human being whom she 
had ever had the right to love. She felt as if she 
were compounding a felony. She knew that if 
she chose she could arouse those who would 
capture and destroy this other being whom she 
instantly believed to be the same that had 
frightened Jean in the morning, and, what was 


144 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


worse, had murdered Doctor Disney. She wns 
fleet and strong, and right was right. Down 
therein the cabin that seemed so near were the 
Rideouts ; whatever their errand at old Israelis 
abode, they would not hesitate to take this man 
in hand — if she aroused them. 

But — there was Jean. 

With a self-repression wonderful in one so 
young, the bound-out girl measured the situa- 
tion and accepted it. As quietly as if she had 
not seen what she had seen, she closed her eyes 
once more, threw her arm sleepily over her com- 
panion’s shoulder, and awaited the other’s 
decision. 

She knew perfectly well that she was as much 
in his power as he in hers. It would be only a 
question of speed and endurance should they 
measure wills ; but she did not tremble, she 
scarcely even breathed as she thus shut her eyes 
upon a scene which had revealed to her all the 
truth of the circumstance which had so startled 
Chelsea town, and left the murderer to follow 
his own course. 

He rose at once, yet without haste. Thou 
art a brave lass,” he whispered with the dis- 
tinctness of a hiss. Thy courage hath saved 


THE MEETING BY THE BOWLDERS 145 

thee. Farewell, and pleasant dreams, my 
pretty. I’ll takes this and be off.” 

She could hear his every movement and word, 
but she did not herself move or speak till he 
had gone quite far away down the hillside. 
Then she sat up slowly in her place and burst 
into a fit of uncontrollable weeping. Yet weep- 
ing so silent that it did not at all disturb the 
peaceful slumber of the worn-out girl beside 
her. 

But Angelia Parthenia Todd slept no more 
that night, nor did she care ever to repeat this 
terrible experience of her first day’s journey to- 
ward “ Fortune’s house.” 

The man passed onward, downward with his 
bag, for he had been careful not to leave aught 
that might serve him at another need, besides, 
the sack was strong, and might be of infinite 
service when he came to find that treasure of 
the old dead miser of which he had heard the 
few days before about the bar of the village inn. 

For why should I be afraid of the dead ? I 
know not which was the miser, he whom I met 
in the ravine or he whom I found dead in the 
house, though both are dead now, and dead men 
tell no tales. So I will even return and find 
10 


146 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


that of which the living are in need — but the 
dead no more. Once more to fortune, and this 
time, thanks to my sleeping beauty, I journey 
thither in comfort and plenty.’^ 

However, as he approached the cabin the 
robber was once more startled by the unexpected, 
but his courage had been refreshed and he did 
not hesitate to advance cautiously as far as the 
broken window and watch through it the opera- 
tions going on within. Thus he distinctly saw 
Peterkin Rideout’s remarkable preparations to 
secure the same booty which he himself had in 
mind to gain, and after watching as long as he 
thought wise, he muttered softly : The stupid 
idiot ! Does he think I’ll stand outside forever 
to watch him poke about a wooden floor when I 
hold the key to the treasure ? Not by Our 
Lady, no !” 

With a bound he leaped through the door- 
way, blew out the candle, and struck Peterkin 
Rideout prostrate upon the very top of his mis- 
leading cryptograms.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE PKICE OF A BREAKFAST 

With the first faint rays of the coming day- 
light Angelia Parthenia, who had sat perfectly 
motionless and intently watchful ever since the 
departure of the thief with her bag of food, rose 
and stretched her cold, stiffened limbs. 

‘‘ Oh, I’m almost frozen ! This must not hap- 
pen again. To sleep out of doors in midsummer, 
and to try the same thing at this time of year, 
are, I find, two very different matters. And 
what a night it was ! I’ll just walk up and 
down for a bit till I stir my blood to a little 
more warmth and then I’ll wake Jean. Poor 
child ! What will she say when I tell her that 
there is no breakfast ?” 

But the girl was too thankful, on her own 
part, for their escape from greater injury to care 
much for the provisions she had lost, and she 

147 


148 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


paced cheerfully about for some moments, but 
always with watchful eyes lest she should have 
an unpleasant surprise of some sort, until her 
healthy blood had resumed its natural flow 
through the chilled limbs ; and with returning 
warmth, courage for any fate also returned. 

Now for my darling ! She has already be- 
come that. The one, only human being I ever 
loved. She seems exactly as I fancy a little 
sister might to me. And to think that I, homely 
Angelia Parthenia Todd, bound-out girl from 
the poor-house, am already better educated than 
this dainty little beauty, whose grandfather was 
a wise man, and who — despite all her present 
poverty — has aristocratic blood in her veins, or 
Tm no judge of whaPs what !’^ 

Stooping down the noble-natured creature laid 
one toil-hardened hand gently upon the sunny 
curls of the unconscious Jean. ‘‘ Come, dearie, 
wake up ! Do you know that it must be after 
five o^clock ? and you and I have a long day’s 
travel before us. Ah, you pretty thing! Your 
blue eyes are as big and innocent as a baby’s, 
and your cheeks are as pink as sweet-brier blos- 
soms. But, all the same, you must wake up ! 
Leave your couch of down and throw aside your 


THE PRICE OF A BREAKFAST 


149 


silken coverlet, my little Lady Barefoot, and 
— give me a kiss 

Jean sat up laughing. “ What a ridiculous 
girl you are, Angelia. But you cannot tease me 
by calling me ‘pretty,’ for I know better. And 
I don’t care, anyway. But — how cold it is ! 
And, oh, my dear, have I kept your shawd all 
night, and have you slept without anything to 
keep you warm ? How selfish and dreadful of 
me ! But I didn’t know it. I was so tired and 
sleepy that I knew nothing at all, and — I’m 
hungry, too. I never used to be so hungry till 
I knew you, and I never had such good stuff to 
eat. I think it is that makes me feel so. When 
are we to have our breakfast, Angelia?” 

“ Bun about first and get up your appetite,” 
answered the other, smiling as merrily as if she 
would be able to produce at a moment’s notice, 
everything which two hungry young girls 
might desire. 

“ I do not need to do that ; but I’ll run and 
warm myself. Oh, isn’t it cold ?” 

“ Yes. Still, if we are to do any running, 
suppose we go in a direction that will help us 
forward on ‘ Fortune’s path.’ I don’t believe in 
wasted energy.” 


150 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


“ All right. Which way lies this fair ^ For- 
tune ’ of ours ; can you guess 

“ I can guess that over the peak of this hill 
we shall see a road to somewhere ; and on a road 
there is almost always a house or more ; and at 
a house there are people ; and people eat break- 
fast; and we will join the people. Therefore we 
also shall breakfast, but not upon ‘ cold victuals.^ 
I have a mind for a cup of hot coffee this 
morning.^^ 

“ How will you get it 

I don’t know — yet, all the same I mean to 
have it ; and if I, then you will, too. Come, let 
us make haste. Farmer folks rise early, and 
they will be all farmers that live so far from any 
village.” 

But, dear, you have forgotten the bag. 
Where did you put it ?” 

Sure enough — the bag !” exclaimed Angelia 
Parthenia, looking about her as if she had sud- 
denly discovered its loss. Where can it 
be?” 

‘‘What? Didn’t you hide it?” 

“ No. I certainly did not. Do you not re- 
member ? I went to sleep with my foot resting 
upon it, for its safe keeping, so that if any 


THE PRICE OF A BREAKFAST 


151 


dog or hungry animal came prowling after it I 
should wake and know it/’ 

‘‘ And — it has gone !” 

‘‘ It seems so,” answered Angelia, with a cool- 
ness that might have aroused suspicion in one 
less innocent and trustful than Jean Wilder. 

Why — where ? Did you see the dog ? Do 
you know it was a dog that took it ?” cried the 
hungry Lady Barefoot, with anxiety. 

I did not see any dog.” 

But it must have been one. I have lived 
on these mountains all my life and there are no 
other creatures that could steal such a heavy 
thing as that precious bag was. Do you suppose 
he ate it all ?” 

Miss Todd shut her lips grimly. I suppose 
that anything hungry enough to steal from two 
homeless girls would be hungry enough to de- 
vour twice the amount of food we had. It is 
too bad ! Too mean and — and — dreadful for 
anything! But I have been awake for some 
time and I believe that we have been robbed ! 
Probably the animal that stole our breakfast 
dragged the bag off with him. Anyway, you 
can see for yourself, as I have for mine, that our 
precious stock is gone I” 


152 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


I — I think you take it very quietly, dear 
Aiigelia! It wasn’t my food, and I have no 
right to feel so bad — but still — I — I think it is 
perfectly terrible. We shall starve to death — 
I’m afraid.” 

My dear little ^ sister,’ you had just as much 
right to the food we have lost as I had. And 
if I take it ‘ coolly,’ as you think, maybe that is 
because I have been awake and have known the 
trouble longer. I am thankful it is no worse. 
The world is a big place, and there is j)lenty of 
food in it. I mean to get a good breakfast for 
us both, but there is no use in lamenting what 
can’t be helped. Come on. Wrap the shawl 
snug about you, take hold of my hand — and 
here goes ! To breakfast, and to fortune !” 

“ Oh, how stiff I am ! I feel as — as poor 
Grandfather used to say he did, as if all my 
joints had grown rusty !” 

‘‘ Never mind ! One — two — three — off ! 
That’s the best way to limber up. See which 
can get to the top of the mountain first !” 

Jean caught the cheerfulness of her helpful 
friend’s spirit, and set off at a pace which even 
Angelia could not equal, and in a few moments, 
breathless, but warm and happy with excite- 


THE PRICE OF A BREAKFAST 


153 


meat, the wanderers reached the topmost peak 
of the hill, and paused to refresh themselves and 

take their bearings/’ 

Ah, ha ! Down in that little hollow — see 
there ? A tiny house and some smoke coming 
out of the chimney ?” 

Yes.” 

“ I invite you to breakfast there with me.” 

“ Angelia !” 

‘‘ Yes’m, that’s my name. Come on !” Seiz- 
ing Jean’s hand, the elder girl set off down the 
further slope of the mountain at a rate of speed 
which made all effort at conversation useless, 
and thus silenced any remonstrance which the 
less bold Lady Barefoot might have made. 
They brought their mad descent to an end in 
the very dooryard of the little cabin, and before 
the astonished eyes of its mistress who had 
come to the door to get fresh fuel for her newly- 
lighted fire. 

‘‘ Good morning, ma’am. Have you any work 
for two hungry girls to do that will pay for 
their breakfasts ?” asked the bound-out run- 
away, promptly, and with a pleasant smile. 

To goodness sake ! Who are you ? Where 
did you come from ? Why should you want a 


154 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


breakfast?’' asked the farmer’s wife, breath- 
lessly. 

We want a breakfast because we are hungry, 
and have had our own stolen by — by something 
— while we were asleep. We came from over the 
hill, and the country beyond, and we are on our 
way to New York where this young girl’s rela- 
tives live. We are poor, but we can work. We 
will do anything you have to do to pay for our 
breakfasts if you will sell them to us on that 
condition.” 

Angelia Parthenia delivered herself of this 
explanation not as if she were asking, but con- 
ferring a favor, and Jean listened in surprise, 
fully expecting a refusal, and trembling lest 
this strange woman should have heard about 
Doctor Disney’s death and the dreadful suspi- 
cion which Peterkin Pideout had whispered con- 
cerning herself. 

Well, I always did believe in the leading of 
Providence,” responded the house-mistress, 
readily and piously. And now, if you mean 
what you say I am convinced afresh. Can you 
milk ?” 

I have been accustomed to milking ten 
cows every night and morning.” 


THE PRICE OF A BREAKFAST 


155 


I have five that must be milked, and my 
man has been gone all night. I’ve all the 
wood-cutters to get breakfast for — they have 
to start early — my man’s a builder and has 
a heavy contract on hand. I dare not hinder 
any of them to help me, and I am a poor 
milker myself. Husband always does it. If 
you can milk the cows — dry and good — I’ll 
give you both all the cakes and sausage you 
can eat, besides a good cup of coffee to wash 
the rest down with. Are you sure you can 
do it?” 

Try me. My first touch of the animal will 
prove to you that I was brought up on a milk- 
ing stool,” returned Angelia gayly. 

“ This way, then. Can you milk, as well as 
your sister ?” said the woman to Jean. 

No ma’am ; I never touched a cow in my 
life,” answered the other truthfully. 

The hurried farm mistress had already taken 
two shining tin pails in her hand, but she now 
paused in astonishment. 

Miss Todd interposed, ‘‘That’s all right, 
ma’am ; I never lived with my ‘sister ’ till lately. 
She lived with her grandfather, but I worked 
out. I’m telling you the truth. Give me the 


156 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


pails, and I will prove my promise by its ful- 
fillment/’ 

The woman obeyed. She was impressed by 
Angelia Parthenia’s manner, which was as if 
that young person already felt herself to be the 
great “ tragedienne ” she aspired to have the 
world consider her. 

But facts speak louder than words, and the 
first movement of the bound-out girl after she 
seated herself upon the milking-stool, was evi- 
dence sufficient to the farm mistress that the task 
of milking was a familiar if not congenial one 
to her new assistant. 

Now, you other girl, come into the house with 
me ; if you can’t milk, I suppose you can tend 
a baby. I hear mine waking up, and if you’ll 
just look after him a bit I’ll get the breakfast on 
the sooner.” 

Oh, may I really touch him ? I never 
handled a baby in my life, but I always longed 
to. They look so soft and cunning,” responded 
Jean eagerly, and quite won the mother’s heart 
by the tender way in which she lifted the rosy 
child from its cradle and gathered it in her 
arms. 

It was an hour later that, all the woodmen 


THE PRICE OF A BREAKFAST 


157 


having left the cottage, the mistress of it sat with 
her two unexpected guests beside the table where 
they had all three just made a liberal meal, 
when a shadow darkened the doorway and the 
master of the place looked in. 

Hello, wife ! How did you manage ? I 
stayed over night to help catch a murderer. 
Awful doings over to Chelsea town. Doctor 
Disney killed — a couple of rewards offered — 
thousand dollars each — one by the Squire and 
one by the town — to the man that catches the 
murderer. I thought I^d give a night to the 
chance, and — Jehuwhitaker 

The farmer’s eyes had fallen upon the face 
of Lady Barefoot, which was perfectly familiar 
to him, and he paused suddenly and signifi- 
cantly. 

On Jean’s part the recognition had been also 
instant. This was one of the woodmen who had 
given her dead branches to burn, and a smile of 
pleasure lighted her thin but pretty face. 

“ Oh, sir ! Is there any news ?” 

News, girl ! If I stood in your shoes 
I wouldn’t stay in this neighborhood long 
enough to ask that question. But I didn’t 
think I’d be the one to catch you — so quick ! 


158 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


By gracious ! It’s luck — but I can’t believe 
it— hardly— ” 

“ Believe what ?” asked Jean, paling under 
the farmer’s stern gaze. 

That a child like you could see such a deed 
done — and keep your senses. Much less take 
a hand in it yourself. Poor thing ! Poor thing !” 
He made a step forward as he spoke, but when 
he laid his hand upon the chair where Lady 
Barefoot had sat, it was empty. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE TELL-TALE MARK 

At about the same hour when Jean and her 
friend Angelia called at the woodman’s cottage 
in pursuit of breakfast, the Rideouts, father and 
son, entered Squire Dutton’s front hall. They 
had walked in without ringing and their manner 
was full of haste and importance, though their 
appearance was that of men who had not slept 
in many hours. 

A servant, lighting the fire in the dining- 
room beyond, almost screamed out in terror at 
their sudden, unannounced appearance, but 
then the nerves of all Chelsea folk had suf- 
fered from the excitement of the recent murder, 
and her outcry penetrated the near-by sleeping- 
room where the good Squire had lain awake all 
night considering the death of his old friend, 
and roused him more readily than a customary 

159 


160 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


summons would have done. In a moment he 
appeared in the hallway and demanded : 
‘'Well? What is it? Have you brought any 
news ?’’ 

“Law, Squire! I reckon we have! We’ve 
b’en about killed ourselves a-obtainin’ of it !” 

“ How ? What’s that ? Is there really news ? 
Of importance?” 

“We’ve seen the murderer. One on ’em.” 

“ What do you mean ?” 

“ Would you object ter my takin’ a chair, 
Squire ? I’m ’bout beat out. But then I always 
was a faithful hired man ter him that’s gone 
where no traveler returns,” said Jeremiah, dole- 
fully. He said this not only because he was, 
in reality, very weary in body, but because, 
brought face to face with the alert, practical 
man of business, the story he had to tell began 
to assume different proportions in his mind 
from those it had exhibited hitherto. 

“ Certainly not. I should have offered it. 
Sit down, Peter, also. Now— the news ? What 
is it?” 

“Well, you see, Petey an’ me, we couldn’t 
rest. We always did think a powerful sight o’ 
him that’s — ” 


THE TEEE-TAEE iVtAUE 


161 


‘‘Yes, yes. We’ll take that on trust. Have 
you any news ? Something out of common must 
have sent you here at this hour.” 

“ I’m a cornin’ to it, Jedge. Only, it’s the 
truth, my wits is kinder bewitched with all this 
trouble, an’ — ” 

“ Let Peter tell. What is it, boy ?” 

“ Look a there. Squire ? See that lump side 
o’ my head ?” 

“ Certainly. Looks as if you had been in a 
fight. A rowdy always comes to grief, as I’ve 
told you before.” 

“Well, I may have sowed a few wild oats, 
but this aint none on ’em. That there bump 
was give me by — by — ” 

“ By whom ?” 

“ Let me tell it. Squire. Petey, he’s kinder 
upsot, too, an’ no wonder. The poor boy’s been 
almost murdered as well.” 

“ Well ?” 

“ You see, we thought we’d go up to the house 
where old Wilder lived. We had our reasons. 
We—” 

The Squire sat down and composed himself 
to listen. He perceived that if he were ever to 
learn what these people had come to tell him he 
11 


162 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


must let them impart their information in their 
own way. 

Jeremiah regained confidence as he saw the 
justice become thus patient, and proceeded in 
his roundabout fashion to describe the last 
night’s events. Only he ascribed a far different 
reason than the true one for his ascent of the 
mountain and the examination of the Wilder 
cabin. 

You, see, I had my suspicions that this here 
job hain’t b’en the work o’ no one man. I ’lowed 
to myself, says I, ‘ Old man Wilder’s ter the 
bottom on’t, but he’s only one of a gang.’ That’s 
what I told Petey, here, an’ I coaxed him ter 
go along up there with me an’ see if we couldn’t 
ketch some on ’em. I reckoned they’d be back 
at night, even if they’d slunk out o’ sight in the 
daytime. I was afeerd they was layin’ out ter 
come ter Disney Farm an’ steal what the dead 
man had left, an’ I thought I’d like ter watch 
out fer ’em a little. Well, sir, we got up there, 
an’ they wasn’t hide ner hair o’ nobody round 
anyw’eres.” 

“ Only a fool would expect there would be !” 

I dunno, Jedge. I dunno. That there 
little girl may be a decoy. That’s my notion^ 


THE TELL-TALE MARK 


163 


an’ if she didn’t take a hand in the job she 
knows fast enough who did. I reckoned she 
might be left there to blind folkses’ eyes, an’ I 
’lowed I’d scare the truth out of her if I ketched 
her. But she was too sharp for honest folks. 
She ketched me, stidder my ketchin’ her.” 

Me, Pop ! It was me — what got the worst 
on’t. You ferget you run like a painter the 
minute the — whoever it was — knocked me flat.” 

“ Well ! Didn’t expect I’d stay ter he killed, 
too, did ye ?” 

Let me talk ! Pop, he was awful tired. He 
set down in the cabin an’ went ter sleep, but I 
went search! n’ round fer anybody what was 
a-hidin’. If I’d a-found that murderer — man 
or girl — afore he or she found me, I’d a settled 
their fish fer ’em ! I would that !” said Pe- 
terkiu. 

Yes, I’ll admit your bravery — for the sake 
of argument. But I think we’ll get at the real 
facts sooner if I ask questions and you answer 
them. Time is important to me. Were you 
two at Israel Wilder’s cabin last night ?” 

We was. Both on us.” 

‘‘ Why did you go there ?” 

Well, we want ter — ter^ — see — ” 


MY LABY BAREFOOT 


iCA 


“ Exactly. ' Did you see anybody 

“ One on us did. And one on us felt him. 
Tlie one that felt him didn’t see him, an’ the 
one that saw him didn’t feel him.” 

‘‘W-h-a-t ? Do you know what you are say- 
ing, or have you been drinking ?” 

“ I’m a Prohibitionist, Squire. I should think 
you’d recollect that,” answered Jeremiah re- 
proachfully. 

‘‘ All right ; but explain your curious state- 
ment. Which one saw ‘ him ’? Who was 
‘ he ’? ” 

‘‘ I saw him with my own mortail eyes. I, 
Jeremiah Pideout. I should know him ag’in if 
I saw him ag’in ; but I dunno his name. Petey 
here, he felt him. He didn’t see him, ’cause 
when I went back, after everything got still 
ag’in, an’ peeked in the winder, Peterkin was 
jest arousin’ up after his knock-down.” 

Did you go there to take a nap, Jeremiah ?” 

I didn’t go ter do it a purpose ; but I done 
it. It was all still as the grave in the cabin, an’ 
when Petey began rummaging round I laid down 
on the lounge like they was there, an’ fust I 
knowed I didn’t know anything ; I was asleep.” 

How did you see anybody then ?” 


THE TELL-TALE MARK 


165 


“ When lie knocked Petey over on the floor 
it made a considerable of a noise, an^ it rousted 
me. That’s what I mean. Petey was a-settin’ 
down a-lookin’ at some picters er suntin’ ’at he’d 
found, while I dropped off. Fust I knowed I 
heered a terrible bang, an’ there lay Petey on the 
floor an’ somebody a-standin’ over him a- 
flourishin’ his arms like he was crazy. I didn’t 
tarry long then, ’cause I ’lowed Petey’s cur’osity 
had been his ruin an’ he was killed a’ready. 
But I didn’t go fur. I hid in the brush till 
after awhile I saw somebody come out o’ the 
house an’ I was ’bout done scared ter death when 
I saw it was Peterkin John. It ’peared same 
as the dead coinin’ ter life ag’in.” 

Humph ! What became of your son’s 
assailant?” 

dunno. We don’t neither on us know. 
That’s what we come ter tell ye ’bout. I didn’t 
see him come out o’ the cabin, though I watched 
the door till a’most daybreak. The fust one ’at 
did come out on’t was my boy, that I had been 
mournin’ fer all night, in the brush, as dead. It 
took my heart clean up inter my mouth ; I was 
that dumberfoun’ by it. An’ that man I saw an’ 
he felt must be a-hidin in the Wilder cabin now. 


166 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


I ’low he thinks it’s a safe place ter stay, an’ 
more’s likely we shall have some other damages 
done o’ the same nater as the Doctor’s takin’ 
off.” 

“ Jeremiah, did you not go to the mountain 
for any other reason than anxiety about your 
late master? I wish to give you credit for a 
sincere attachment to him and his memory, but 
‘ they say ’ that you or Peterkin have made some 
strong statements. One of these is, that you saw 
Israel Wilder’s grandchild and extracted a con- 
fession from her that she was implicated in the 
dreadful affair. Is this true ?” 

Well, I ain’t obleeged ter answer you now, 
be I, Squire ? Not ’ithout witnesses ?” 

“ As you like,” responded the old gentle- 
man, shrugging his shoulders. 

An’ I ain’t a-committin’ o’ myself when I 
say that I know more’n I’d like ter tell ?” 

“ Perhaps not. Do you hope to win the re- 
ward ?” 

The suddenness of this question almost stag- 
gered Jeremiah. All day before he had as- 
sumed that his only wish to find the guilty per- 
son was to avenge his employer’s death ; that 
he would not touch a cent of any offered re- 


THE TELL-TALE MARK 


167 


ward/’ for he should feel as if he were 
taking blood money /’ yet the Squire be- 
lieved him to have been working for the 
thousand dollars only ; and not hesitating to 
implicate a young and innocent girl in the 
dreadful crime. 

Squire Dutton himself believed that old Isra- 
el had known something about the Doctor’s 
death, and he did not believe that Israel was 
dead. He had therefore made no haste to go 
or send to the mountain, for he reflected that a 
man capable of murder, as Wilder had prob- 
ably been, would be quite capable of feigning 
death and deceiving his grandchild ; and 
through her deceiving the rest of the world un- 
til he had had time to make good his own es- 
cape. That the miser had taken advantage of 
his heart trouble to simulate death when Jean 
had gone to the village for help was the Squire’s 
theory ; and that any effort made to capture the 
guilty man would result in success. He had 
therefore offered a large reward, and the town 
authorities had supplemented this by another ; 
and that ‘‘ reward ” had been the motive which 
lured Jeremiah and Peterkin ‘mountainward at 
the dead of night was as plain to his judgment 


168 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


as the goodly sized nose on the elder Rideout’s 
face. 

But Squire Dutton was in no such hurry now 
as he had been in the first impulse of his grief ; 
and he realized how sad for an already friend- 
less girl would be the result of the search. He 
had taken a great liking to Jean, and he had 
regretted ever since that he had refused to read 
the paper she had wished him to do on the 
morning before. He intended, during the day 
just opened, to hunt her up and assure her of 
his sympathy and protection, even though she 
were the grandchild of his best friend’s murderer. 

Meanwhile, he had a little rod in pickle for 
Peterkin, whom he did not like ; and for whom 
a little scare would be a good thing. 

By the way, Peter. What do you suppose 
was the weapon used on this occasion — the 
instrument of death ?” 

‘‘ Do you mean what the Doctor was killed 
with ?” 

Yes. You have handled tools. I thought, 
perhaps, you would know.” 

Peterkin John Rideout swelled with impor- 
tance. To have a man of Squire Dutton’s cali- 
bre consult with him — Peterkin — was cause for 


THE TELL-TALE MARK 


169 


pride, indeed. ^MVell, Squire, since you want 
my opine, I’m willin’ ter give it. I’ve b’en a- 
studyin’ on this here case, an’ it’s my opine that 
Doctor Disney come ter his death by the use of 
a steel er iron weepon in the hands o’ — ” 

No matter whose hands. What was the 
weapon ?” 

axe. Er a hatchet. Might a be’n a 
hatchet.” 

A woodchopper’s hatchet?” 

“ Yes. I ’low so.” 

‘‘You should know, you are a woodchopper 
yourself — when you are anything but a loafer.” 

“ Don’t be hard on a feller, Jedge. I sha’n’t 
get fetched up afore you ag’in very soon ; this 
here affair has sobered me some.” 

“ I should think it might. As kind and in- 
dulgent a master as ever paid a worthless serv- 
ant good wages. Do all woodchoppers know 
their own axes or hatchets ?” 

“Yes. Every man on us has our own mark. 
’N’ess we’d get a sharp tool changed for a dull 
one an’ no tellin’ who’s a cheatin’. I have a 
cur’us kind o’ mark fer mine. Don’t nobody 
git ahead o’ Peterkin John Rideout, ’n’ess he gits 
up purty early in the mornin’. No, sir !” 


170 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


, Well, would you know the tools of your 
fellow- work men if you saw them T’ 

Yes, indeed. I would 

“Why?’’ asked Jeremiah, with sudden in- 
terest. 

“Because an axe, or rather a large hatchet 
has been found near the scene of the murder. 
It is distinctly marked, but each of the work- 
men who has happened to see it disclaims the 
mark as his own. Nor will they tell me whose 
it is. I hope you will have more regard to jus- 
tice than to keep silence if, when I show this 
instrument to you, you do recognize it as belong- 
ing to any Chelsea woodcutter. Can I rely upon 
you?” 

“ Jedge — you can !” 

Squire Dutton stepped quietly to a closet of 
the room and, with an air of great secrecy, un- 
locked its door. Thence he took a weapon 
carefully wrapped in soft cloths, and, though his 
hands hated contact with it, he laid it deliber- 
ately down upon the table. Then he motioned 
Jeremiah and Peterkin to approach. They did 
so with awe, an awe which was not lessened by 
the profound gravity of the Squire’s manner. 

“ There !” said that gentleman, tossing aside 


THE TELL-TALE MARK 


171 


the last wrappiiig which covered the hatchet’s 
handle, ‘‘did you ever see that before?” 

“ AVh — wh — wha — at! AVhat does — it — 
mean ?” stammered old Jeremiah, while his 
hopeful son’s knees shook so that he was forced 
to cling to the table for support. 

“ It means that this weapon bears the private 
mark of Peterkin John Rideout; that it was 
found within a few feet of the man whom it 
killed, and that the base insinuation which its 
owner made against an innocent and helpless 
girl has, like most evil things, ‘ come home to 
roost.’ ” 


CHAPTER XV 


AN UNLUCKY JEST 

So sudden had been Lady Barefoot^s flight 
from the contractor’s cottage that he scarcely 
realized she had really escaped him until his 
wife turned upon him with a grave reproof. 

Husband, I’m ashamed of you ! You — a great, 
strong, healthy man — to scare the senses out of 
a poor beggar child like that ! I’m glad she’s 
gone ! I hope she will thus outwit all her 
enemies ! As for you, I think you could be bet- 
ter employed than in turning detective at your 
time of life.” 

“ Hush, wife. A thousand dollars — two 
thousand — do not grow on every bush. It 
would have put you and baby in comfort for the 
rest of your lives.” 

‘‘ It would bring misfortune upon us. If all 
the wise lawyers in all the world should stand 
172 


iN TJNLtJCkY JEST^ 


173 


together and tell me that that sweet-faced child 
could do an evil thing I wouldn’t believe 
them !” cried the house-mistress, warmly. “ I 
never took such a notion to anybody in my 
life, and as for baby, he jest crept to her as if 
she were his own sister. Needn’t tell me 
there’s anything wrong about anybody a baby 
likes !” 

“ A woman always judges by her feel- 
ings. The circumstances point strongly to that 
girl as a witness of the murder of Doctor Disney, 
if not a conspirator in the crime. In any case 
she will be wanted for the trial, and if I could 
have scared her into telling me the truth I 
would have earned more than wood-selling will 
bring me in many a long day.” 

Thank Heaven you did not succeed ! And 
now, let’s have no more wasted time. Honest 
labor for honest folks is Heaven’s own way to 
make them happy. Get you to your trees 
again and I will mold out my bread. The 
poor girls have done me a good turn this morn- 
ing, and I hope with all my heart that happi- 
ness and prosperity will follow them and change 
their sorry fortunes. As for you. Will, don’t 
ever let me know of your mixing yourself up 


174 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


in any such wickedness again. Not if you love 
baby and me 

When a good and true wife scolds ’’ in such 
a wise and gentle fashion a good man generally 
listens. The woodman was already ashamed of 
his over-night’s greed, and kissed his cheerful 
home-mate in a shamefaced sort of way. Maybe 
you are right, Maggie. You mostly are, and I 
guess, after all, it would be as you say : If I had 
earned the money I should not have enjoyed it. 
I’m otf now, and good-by.” 

But poor Jean, flying down the mountain 
side toward a distant wood, which promised 
hiding place, did not know how completely and 
suddenly the attitude of the woodcutter’s mind 
had been changed toward her, and the terror 
which possessed her almost killed her. She had 
but one thought, and that was — hiding. A place 
where she could hide and die — die naturally, of 
starvation — was the one idea which filled her 
throbbing brain. 

Suddenly her bare foot touched a rolling-stone 
and she was thrown headlong to the ground 
with such force that it seemed as if her last wish 
had come true. 

Oh, my dear ! Has it killed her ?” cried poor 


AN UNLUCKY JEST 


175 


Angelia, who had left tlie cottage almost as 
promptly and swiftly as Jean, but who, fleet 
though she was, could hardly keep the terrified 
fugitive in sight, as she saw from a distance the 
stumble and the fall. ‘‘ Oh, if there is any justice 
in this world it cannot be that such an innocent 
should suffer so for long.’’ 

Then she gained the side of prostrate Lady 
Barefoot and raised the slight form tenderly 
in her strong arms. 

It has — it has killed her ! She is dead, and 
that man yonder is now a murderer himself. 
Oh, can such things be ?” 

She did not for a moment believe that there 
was any use in the labor she now attempted, but 
she set resolutely to work as if she considered 
Jean’s unconsciousness to be but a slight faint. 
She brought water and bathed the pale, fair face, 
which represented all of earthly love to the 
homeless bound-out, and while she toiled she 
prayed with all the force of her strong nature 
that her new friend might at least open her eyes 
and speak one more loving word before she 
ceased to speak forever. 

Meanwhile her thoughts were diverted by a 
shrill little sound behind her, and turning, 


176 


MY LADY BABEFOOL 


Aiigelia discovered the red squirrel upon his 
haunches, chattering away with all his might. 

‘‘ Well, upon my word, if that isn’t the 
strangest thing ! Where have you been. 
Whisker? I haven’t seen you since last night ; 
and how in the world you have followed your 
poor mistress to this spot to see her die, passes 
my understanding.” 

‘‘ Chitter — chatter !” replied Whisker com- 
posedly and regarding Jean with his head cocked 
on one side, and his bright eyes fairly sparkling 
with intelligence. But every time Angelia 
stretched out her hand to stroke or capture him 
he evaded her grasp and sprang aside, but never 
far from his beloved little mistress, who had 
such a wonderful influence over him and all 
wild things of the forest. 

At last, as if he could endure Jean’s unre- 
sponsiveness no longer, he bounded lightly to 
her slioulder and playfully seized the tip of her 
colorless ear in his sharp little teeth. Angelia 
sprang forward to drive him off, but was arrested 
by a slight movement of the injured girl’s eye- 
lids. 

My goodness. Whisker ! has your instinct 
taught you what to do better than human sense 


AN UNLUCKY JEST 


177 


could teach me wondered anxious Angelia, 
and held her breath to watch the outcome of the 
matter. 

‘‘ Chitter, chitter, chatter I” squealed Whisker, 
and took a second nibble, this time a sharp and 
very aggressive one. He felt he had been neg- 
lected long enough. 

‘AVell, if that isn’t an answer to prayer, and 
by the aid of one of the most insignificant of 
creatures, there never was a prayer answered !” 
cried the human watcher, devoutly. 

It was quite true. The sharp pain which the 
squirrel’s teeth had caused the object of his 
attack had recalled her dormant sense, and she 
now opened her eyes in a dazed way, which 
gradually changed to recognition and a smile. 
But when the silent voice spoke once again, the 
bound-out girl felt that she had been granted all 
the happiness her heart could bear. 

“ Why — Whisker ! You — hurt me !” 

“ Good Whisker ! Darling, precious, wise 
little Whisker!” responded Angelia, enthusi- 
astically. 

“ Wise ? But — what has happened ? Where 
am I ? Oh, I remember — the dreadful man — I 
mustn’t stay here !” 

12 


178 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


You must stay just still for one ten min- 
utes. Hark ! Listen to me. This is all non- 
sense. The very worst that can happen to 
you is to be made to tell in court all you know 
about the last hours of Doctor Disney. I’ve 
thought the whole business out since I’ve been 
watching you here, and I’m not going to let 
you run another single step. The man didn’t 
follow you, nobody will follow you. If the law 
wants to find you, it can without the aid of any 
of these greedy countrymen. You’ve nearly 
killed yourself tumbling down, and that’s got 
to end it ! I’ll never let you make me suffer as 
I did suffer for the few minutes that I thought 
you were dead — never, never again !” cried 
Miss Todd, vehemently. 

Why, my dear !” exclaimed Jean, wonder- 
ingly, could I make you or anybody suffer ?’' 

Well, I should think you could ! You 
nearly broke Whisker’s heart in two, besides 
making me wish I was dead, also. Dear old 
Will Shakespeare had a deal to say about the 
pangs of love, but I never knew what he meant 
till this very morning. If you’re determined 
to hurt yourself or kill yourself, I’m awful 
sorry I ever saw you !” 


AN UNLUCKY JEST 


179 


There was something both comical aiicl 
pathetic about the view of the situation which 
Angelia took, and it probably did more to 
divert Jean’s thoughts from her own peril than 
any amount of coddling would have done. 
The bound-out girl’s nature acted as a tonic 
upon the gentler but no less loyal one of her 
companion, and, presently. Lady Barefoot 
roused herself sufficiently to sit up and reply 
very lovingly and firmly : 

‘‘ Why, my dear, if it means as much as that 
to you, I will try to take care of myself for 
your sake, as you must promise to do for mine. 
It seems as if I could bear anything for any- 
body else, and I’ll try not to be frightened any 
more. What would you advise me to do ? I 
promise that whatever it is I will do it.” 

‘‘ Will you ? You darling ! Then there is 
an end of danger and fuss. I’m sick of it. 
We both claim that we have done nothing 
wrong. Why, then, should we act as if we 
had? Let us go to New York, as we set out 
to do ; but let us take to the highway and go 
respectably and comfortably, not scurrying 
across fields like a couple of guilty creatures. 
Besides, our first experience in facing people 


180 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


proved a good one. The woman in the cottage 
treated us splendidly, I think.” 

“ So do I. But her husband — ” 

‘‘ Is probably ashamed of himself by this time. 
At any rate he has not attempted to follow us, 
for if he had he could have caught us ; since 
you tumbled down so obligingly to give him 
the chance. Do you feel better now ?” 

‘‘ Oh, yes ! I’m all right now, I think, only 
— sort of shaky and trembly like. But I’m 
getting used to tumbles, and I know the ill feel- 
ings don’t last long.” 

Then lean on me, and let us turn toward 
that road I see over yonder. I hope w^e may 
meet a wagon that will give us a lift. I’m ter- 
ribly fond of riding.” 

‘‘Are you ? I don’t know much about it ; only 
that last ride I had with poor Doctor Disney.” 

“ I used to ride once a week to church with 
the Wilkinses, but they never let me sit in the 
same pew with them. Back pews are good 
enough for poor-house girls, they think. But 
I’m coming back some day, and the sexton shall 
march me right up in front. I’ll have a hat all 
trimmed with feathers and a silken gown trail- 
ing about two yards behind, so that the folks 


AN UNLUCKY JEST 


181 


will have to stand still and let me take my own 
time about passing down the aisle, unless they 
want to catch their feet on my train and get 
thrown down. It shall be dark blue silk ; and 
my mantilla shall be black velvet, and my hat 
rose-colored satin. I will have a satin parasol 
in my hand all trimmed with lace ; and I will 
throw my head back and strut — this way ! 
Can^t you imagine how fine I will look 

I can imagine how silly you will look 
returned Jean, frankly. I like you ever so 
much better when you don’t get on the Wilkins 
subject. They seem to make you feel cross and 
hateful.” 

“ There you are exactly right. And since 
you’ve been so good as to take my advice I’ll 
e’en take thine ! Let the Wilkins fampy go ! 
I wash my hands of them and of all their plebe- 
ian baseness. To fortune I set my face afresh ! 
Come on. Whisker !” 

But Whisker, who had played so important 
a part in the restoration of his young mistress, 
had now returned to his natural habits and 
sped along in his own fashion as if paying no 
attention to his human companions ; save that 
once in a while he would spring to Jean’s 


182 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


shoulder for a moment, brush his plumy 'tail 
against her cheek caressingly, chatter a word of 
squirrel talk in her ear, then dart away afresh. 
But he was never far off though often out of 
sight ; and Angelia began to wonder and spec- 
ulate more and more about Lady Barefoot’s 
power among her woodland playmates. 

Finally her thoughts found voice. I’ll tell 
you what. Miss Jean Montgomery Wilder ! 
If those Palatial Avenue folks of yours don’t 
receive you with the frantic joy which they 
should exliibit, there is one thing you can do to 
earn your living.” 

And what is that ?” 

‘‘You can set up an establishment for taming 
animals and training them. Or, maybe you 
could get a position as assistant in some park 
where animals are kej^t. I think the care of a 
pigeon house would just about suit you, my 
dear.” 

“ Humph ! I fancy that nobody would give 
me the chance at that, though I should like it. 
But, now, for putting our resolution into proof. 
Here comes a wagon ; shall we ask for a ride ?” 

“Yes; and I’ll leave you to do the asking, 
since you have suddenly grown so brave !” 


AN UNLUCKY JEST 


183 


‘‘ All right. You shall see that I have really 
made up my mind to run no more away from 
people but try to show them that I have noth- 
ing to fear. Hello, there, sir ! Hello ! Hello — o !’’ 

The driver of a mill team just passing along 
the road they had reached, slackened speed at 
this salute and returned it good-naturedly. 
‘‘ Hello, yourselves ! What do you want ?” 

A ride, a help on our journey. We are 
bound to the Landing, and from there to New 
York. Will you take us as far as you go?’’ 

If I do it will be as far as you will want to go 
— on land. I, too, am bound to the Landing to 
ship this load aboard the boat for the city. 
Jump in if you like.” 

There ! It is just as I told you. Run away 
from the world and it will chase you ; face it 
boldly and it will give you a kind word,” cried 
Miss Todd, triumphantly, as she took her place 
on the meal sacks behind the miller’s wagon 
seat. 

He turned round sharply, surprised at this 
outburst of wisdom. “ Hm — m ! I should like 
to know who had your bringing up, my girl.” 

A number of folks have taken a hand in 
the business. The poor-master first, then some 


184 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


farmers, a good old parson, but William 
Shakespeare claims all the wisdom I ] 30 ssess.” 

Hm — m ! I know the poor-master, and 
plenty of farmers and parsons, but I never 
heard of any William Shakespeare in these 
parts. Living here now 

No, sir ; he’s dead.” Angelia’s face was a 
picture of sorrow as she made this announce- 
ment. 

So ? A pity. I suppose that’s why you are 
out of a job, ain’t it ? Been dead long ?” 

Not very. Only about two hundred and 
seventy years.” 

Ginger ! Crazy ! I thought so the first 
time I looked at you ! Out of my wagon — the 
pair of you. I don’t carry no lunatics to town 
with me, I can tell you !” 


CHAPTER XVI 


FLIGHTS AND FALLS 

‘‘Well, will you stop laughing?’’ demanded 
the astonished future actress, as she stood re- 
garding Jean giving way to an uncontrollable 
burst of amusement. “ I didn’t know you could 
laugh like that. But — well, it’s an ill wind that 
blows nobody good, and if that man is a know- 
nothing it proves you are not the sobersides I 
thought you were. Do you often laugh so ?” 

“ Oh, yes. I used to, but these last few days 
I haven’t felt much like it. No matter. What 
shall we do now ? Wait for another wagon ?” ' 

“ If you think best.” 

“ I do. Sit down here, and, Angelia, dear, 
you gave me some advice a while ago ; now I 
heard you, say ‘ turn about was fair play.’ Don’t 
talk things to the next man which he cannot 
understand. I have heard my grandfather say 

185 


186 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


that an ill-timed jest was often terrible in its 
results.’^ 

Humph ! I should think so. But watch 
me next time. Hark ! More wheels. I hope 
it’s another chance. I won’t abuse it this time. 
See if I do.” 

The approaching footfalls belonged to no 
ordinary farmer’s team ; that was evident even 
before the smart game-cart drawn by a pair of 
stylish cobs and officered by a pair of liveried 
attendants came into sight. 

<< My goodness ! Isn’t that a nobby turnout !” 
exclaimed Angelia, whose employers had once 
taken summer boarders and who had had more 
experience with city equipages — as far as sight 
went — than the mountain-reared Jean. There 
will be no chance for us in that affair !” 

On came the vehicle and Jean watched it 
curiously, and from a very superior point of 
view, for she had climbed into a hickory-nut 
tree by the wayside to shake from it the nuts 
which clung there, and she now stood peering 
out between the branches, her bare feet standing 
lightly and freely upon one bough, while her 
upstretched hands grasped another high above 
her head. 


FLIGHTS AND FALLS 


187 


Her poise was full of grace and unconscious 
ease, her fair face looked forth from amid wav- 
ing masses of golden hair, and her big blue eyes 
had -all the brilliant gleam of youthful surprise 
and delight ; but she had no thought of being 
observed until the ambitious Whisker, as if 
seeking to call attention to her loveliness, 
sprang rustling through the yellow leaves and 
landed from her shoulder at the bay cobs’ feet. 

Oh, my squirrel, my squirrel ! They 
mustn’t kill him — they shall not !” 

By the great Diana !” 

Whisker took a hand in affairs, as usual, and 
most effectively, if not wisely. By accident or 
in mischief, he made a sudden down-spring just 
before the mettlesome horses and caused them to 
shy and jostle their owner almost from her 
seat, while Jean’s outcry roused her, at the 
same moment, to lift her eyes in the girl’s direc- 
tion. 

‘‘Well! what beautiful wood-nymph is this? 
But — hold a tight rein there, Thomas ! That 
off beast ! Take care, take care !” 

“ Oh, Angelia ! My dear ! my darling 1” 

It was all over in a minute. But when the 
fractious cobs had again become quiet, J ean had 


188 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


reached the ground by the side of her stricken 
friend, who lay in the dust very pale and still, 
but smiling bravely up into the pitiful face 
above her. 

I — I’m all right. I just — I saw he had 
lost control — I guess — it’s nothing — ” 

The queer little old lady had now climbed 
out of the game-cart and was bending above 
the two girls, who paid no attention to her or 
anything else about them, and she laid her hand 
gently upon Jean’s shoulder. 

How did it happen, child ? I was looking 
at you up there in the tree and I didn’t see this 
one. Is she much hurt? Here, Thomas! 
Let James take care of those beasts. Come and 
lift her out of the road.” 

I think, Madame,” said Thomas, touching 
his hat, she thought the team was going to run 
and she stopped them ; but not in time to avoid 
being hurt herself. It looks like her arm was 
broken. See how it drops when I lift her ?” 

‘‘ Oh, oh ! But I hope it is nothing worse !” 
‘‘Worse! Could anything be worse?” cried 
Lady Barefoot, indignantly, and tenderly 
lifting that curiously-dangling arm of her poor 
friend to support it against her own breast as 



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FLIGHTS AND FALLS 


189 


Thomas carefully moved Angelia out of the 
roadway. 

“ Yes, many things are worse than broken 
bones. Hearts, for instance ! Though I was 
thinking of some serious internal injury when I 
spoke,’’ responded the old lady, with a quiet 
smile. 

Maybe there might be worse for other peo- 
ple, but not for us ! Are you in great pain, 
darling ?” 

No, no, little Anxious ! Only that arm. I 
can sit up if you will all move aside and give 
me room,” answered the injured girl, sturdily, 
but the attempt to chance her j)osture whitened 
her face again to that dreadful pallor which had 
so terrified Jean. 

Thomas quickly brought the carriage cush- 
ions and placed them carefully behind her back, 
as anxiously and gently as if Angelia Parthenia 
had been clothed in royal attire instead of a worn 
print gown ; then he wrapped her in the fine 
plush robe and asked resj^ectfully if he could 
do anything further for her comfort. 

Even a servant can show that his mistress is 
a gentlewoman,” responded the bound-out girl 
dreamily, and those who heard her thought her 


190 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


brain was hurt. But it was not ; it was only 
her instant appreciation of the treatment she 
received, and her swift leaping to the conclusion 
she had murmured aloud. 

. Are you worse, dear ?” 

‘‘Worse, Jean, child? I never was so 
delightfully, luxuriously happy in my life — ex- 
cept for your worry and that arm. See! Feel 
this robe ! That is a foretaste of what shall be 
mine some day — some day 

Madame D’ Albemarle stood curiously watch- 
ing this little by-play. If Angelia Parthenia 
Todd was quick-witted and ambitious, she had 
now met her counterj^art, and the white-haired 
little lady standing amid the fallen leaves by the 
roadside on that late autumn day, had been 
carried suddenly backward by the romantic 
girl’s words to her own long-past youth and its 
brilliant dreams. There are some happy souls 
who never outlive their romance. Madame 
D’Albemarle was one of these, and Angelia 
Parthenia could not have fallen into more con- 
genial surroundings had she had the world 
from which to choose, than when she threw 
herself before the carriage of a once famous 
songstress. 


FLIGHTS AND FALLS 


191 


‘‘My girl, who are you?’’ demanded the old 
lady briskly. 

“ A nobody now. A somebody sometime. 
By name Angelia Parthenia Todd.” 

“ Todd ! Ha ! That won’t do. It is hor- 
rible. Angelia, or even Parthenia, is not so bad. 
Where do your folks live ?” 

“ I haven’t any.” 

“ Are you telling me the truth ?’*’ 

“ The gospel truth.” 

“ Where did you come from ?” 

“ I ran away from a farm-house. I was born 
in a poor-house. I have been a bound-out 
servant. That is a servant who works for no 
wages. I am going to be a reader on the public 
stage ; the greatest the world has ever known — 
if I can ! But as great as I am capable of being, 
in any case.” 

“ Humph ! How are you going to accomplish 
this ?” 

“ I don’t know, ma’am. I am going to New 
York first. The rest I shall find out afterwards. 
‘ Great fioods have flown from simple sources. 
. . . Oft expectation fails, . . . and oft it 
hits, where hope is coldest and despair most 
sits.’ ” 


192 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


“ Odds, faith, child ! Do you know Shakes- 
peare ?” 

‘‘ He brought me up, ma’am. That is, he 
taught me all I know worth knowing, except 
the good minister and his Testament. I am not 
so great a fool as I seem. But — you will think 
I am if I sit here and kee23 you waiting any 
longer. Oh, my arm !” as a twinge shot through 
the injured member. Here, Thomas, you can 
take the robe again. I have had a taste of 
luxury, and I thank you for it.” 

“Wait, Thomas !” commanded his mistress. 
Then she turned to Jean. “And who are 
you, dear ? A wood-nymph, as I thought you ?” 

Lady Barefoot was not at all dramatic, and 
she did not either like or understand the sort of 
talk which seemed to come so naturally to these 
two others. “ I am a homeless girl, too, 
ma’am ; but I am going to find my friends. 
They live in New York and we were on our 
way there when — when your horses knocked 
Angelia down.” 

“ How were you going to get there ?” 

“ We were going to try to earn our way 
there somehow. I don’t know exactly. This 
morning we earned our breakfast by taking 


FLIGHTS AND FALLS 


198 


care of a woman’s baby and milking her cows. 
I hope we shall find some other chances to help 
us along.” 

You dainty little creature ! That you should 
fare like this ! My dears, I am an old woman. 
You can both trust me. I must make amends 
to this poor child I have been the cause of in- 
juring, and the first step towards it is to take 
her to a surgeon. I am on my way to Chelsea 
Landing. You must go with me and have that 
broken arm set right away. Afterwards, I 
am going on the afternoon boat to the city. 
I invite you to go with me — if you are 
telling me the truth— as I believe you are 
I have not had such a chance to do anything 
out of the common in a long while. I should 
like to help you on your way, at least as far as 
the great town whither you are bound. Come. 
Get in. Wood Nymph ! And, Thomas, help this 
future ‘ Cushman ’ into the cart.” 

Jean looked at Angelia for guidance and 
saw that odd girl’s cheek flush with a brilliant 
color, and her fine eyes flash in a way that 
transformed her strong intellectual face to abso- 
lute beauty. You need not assist me Thomas. 
I have nothing worse to contend with than a 
13 


194 MY LADY BAREFOOT 

broken arm and saying this the proud crea- 
ture sprang into the broad game- cart as easily 
and lightly as if she had been accustomed to 
riding in fashionable vehicles all her life, and 
had no personal injuries to hinder her. 

Eh ! Well, well ! You’ll do it, girl ! You’ll 
do it !” cried the queer little owner of the estab- 
lishment, climbing nimbly into it herself ; 
while Jean remained, somewhat sad of face 
and greatly perplexed, by the roadside. 

Come, come, child ! In with you ! You are 
both going with me, of course. You do not 
think I would part friends, do you ? No, in- 
deed ! There is nothing so beautiful as friend- 
ship, while it lasts.” 

Jean needed no more urging, and five minutes 
later the whole party were bowling merrily 
along toward Chelsea Landing, while Jean was 
trying to tell her new acquaintance the history 
of her own and Angelia’s lives. In this she 
was continually interrupted by Madame, who 
hated a long story and dreaded that this would 
be such, till Angelia herself interposed by say- 
ing : You need not fear, ma’am. The annals 
of the jioor are brief !” 

Go on, then,” ordered the lady, smiling, and 


FLIGHTS AND FALLS 


195 


thus commanded Lady Barefoot gave a truth- 
ful history of all that had befallen them, and of 
the dreadful suspicion which rested upon her- 
self. 

Hm — m ! You need not take that matter so 
much to heart. Any judge on the face of the 
earth who looks once upon your pure young 
face would send you out of court in a hurry. 
Don’t think of such a terrible mistake again, my 
dear, but tell me instead, do you like riding ?” 

Oh, I love it ! It seems just like Whisker 
must feel when he goes from tree to tree. It is 
as if I had wings and could go up there above 
the clouds !” 

Fancy yourself above them now, dear child, 
and stay there as long as you can. Youth is 
the time for beautiful aspirations; age is not 
rich enough to keep them.” 

But nobody stays above the clouds for very 
long ; not even so bright a spirit as Jean Wilder, 
though her descent from them was not her own 
fault nor on her own account. 

The downfall happened in this wise. The 
two girls, under the escort of their new friend, 
had just emerged from the office of the best 
surgeon at Chelsea Landing, some hour or more 


196 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


after their entrance to the town, and Jean was 
congratulating Angelia upon the fortitude she 
had exhibited during the setting of her broken 
arm, when she felt herself pushed rudely aside, 
and a tall man in a straw hat laid a fierce grasp 
upon the bound-out’s shoulder. 

‘‘ Hi ! I’ve caught ye, have I ? You good-for- 
nothing hussy. Runnin’ off this way, after 
stealin’ enough provision to send you to State’s 
prison ! Hi, hi, my lady ! I reckon it’ll go 
hard with ye, now, if I don’t take all your sin 
and wickedness out of your worthless young 
skin !” 

Alas for Angelia Parthenia and her beautiful 
dress ! The voice in her ears was a voice she 
both feared and hated. The hand upon her 
shoulder was a hand whose grip she had felt 
many times — the hand of her master, Farmer 
Wilkins! 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE END AND THE BEGINNING OF A SERVICE 

I WILL never go back with you — never !’’ 

You’ll go back with me so quick it’ll make 
you dizzy, ye sass-box !” 

I’ll die first ! I hate you ; I despise you ! 
I won’t — I won’t !” 

Ye’ll have ter. I’ve got that here in my 
pocket ’ll take all the snap out o’ your wicked 
black eyes, you good-for-nothin’ poor-house 
brat ! I’ve got a warr’nt fer yer stealin’ my 
goods an’ chattels. Larceny, that’s the count 
I’ve got ag’in ye, an’ I’ll press it ter the eend. 
Ye won’t git clear o’ workin’ yer time out when 
you’re eighteen, as you ’spected ye would, my 
lady. I’ll take the snap out o’ ye — er my name 
aint Wilkins.” 

I won’t — I won’t — unhand me, villain !” 
shrieked Angelia Parthenia, careless of who 

197 


198 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


heard her and cowed far more by this brutal 
master whom she feared, than by any amount of 
physical pain, or even starvation. 

Jean had been standing beside her captured 
comrade, wringing her hands in mute distress, 
but comprehending fully what had occurred and 
the desperate case of the poor bound-out. When 
the law ’’ steps in all other arguments seem 
powerless. Oh, if you only hadn’t have taken 
that miserable food. But was it really stealing?” 
cried Lady Barefoot, clasping Angelia’s free 
hand and clinging to it in an agony of fear. 

Then did the future illustrious reader ” rise 
to the occasion, as turning with a gesture she 
flung aside the sympathetic younger girl and ex- 
claimed majestically, “ Et tu. Brute !” 

Magnificent ! Magnificent ! You’ll do it 
— you little witch ! You certainly will keep 
your word !” The delighted tone in which these 
words were uttered wrought a sudden change 
over the whole situation. The irate farmer 
slightly loosened his hold of his captive, Jean 
ceased sobbing, and Angelia herself forgot 
everything for the instant but the praise which 
had been accorded her. 

In the pause, thus propitious, the interested 


END AND BEGINNING OF A SERVICE 199 

little Madame now stepped forward. Hm — m ! 
Good sir, is there no other way beside forcing 
this girl’s unwilling service to compensate you 
for what she has done ?” 

None that I knows on, ma’am, whoever you 
may be. An’ I may as well tell ye that this 
wuthless critter ain’t a good subjeck fer you ner 
nobody else ter waste sympathy on. She’s a 
ungrateful, high-sprung pauper out o’ the poor- 
house, that’s what she is, no matter how she tries 
ter come the hypercrite over ye, a play-actin’ in 
the streets, as a decent female critter ort ter be 
ashamed o’ doin’. An’ I hain’t got no time ter 
waste. I’ve ten cows ter milk ag’in I git hum, 
an’ it’s arter noon spell now.” 

“ So it is ! And I feel hungry. I presume 
you all do, also. Suppose we all go into the 
inn opposite and have a comfortable meal ? In- 
vite your lawyer, too, Mr. Farmer Wilkins, and 
let us inquire more critically into the situation. 
I am interested in these two girls, and I have 
been the cause of your bound-out’s broken arm. 
Therefore I must be allowed to compensate 
you somewhat for the want of her services 
while her arm is mending. Will you dine 
with me?” 


200 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


I begs your pardon, ma’am ! Do I under- 
stand ye to ask me ter eat dinner with ye ?” 

I hope you so understand. That was my 
exact meaning.” 

What fer ? Folks ain’t in the habit o’ goin’ 
’round the public streets a jhckin’ up strangers 
to eat their victuals fer ’em. Not out o’ Scrip- 
ter, ma’am.” 

Well, my good sir, once in a hundred years 
some people do really practice the Scripture 
teachings which everybody professes to believe. 
Of course it’s uncommon. The golden rule 
looks better and wears better kept on a closet 
shelf along with the Sunday clothes ; but I hap- 
pen to have a fancy for trying how it will work 
on a week day as well. For instance : ‘ Do unto 
others as ye would that they should do unto 
you,’ in this case I interpret thus : I am hungry 
and as none of you seem inclined to invite me 
to dine with you, I will try the reverse working 
of the maxim and invite you to dine with me. 
See ? AVhere is your lawyer ?” 

Here, Madame, at your service said a gen- 
tleman, emerging from the group which had 
gathered about the party, and smiling amusedly. 

^‘Hm-m! You look like a person who has 


END AND BEGINNING OF A SERVICE 201 


been outside Chelsea limits. Please aid me. 
Make these people, who are not interested, im- 
mediately go away, and will you, with your 
angry client, do me the favor of stepping into 
the inn and settling this trivial matter in a com- 
fortable fashion ? I trust this will be guarantee 
sufficient;” and smiling in a manner so charm- 
ing as to carry her point at once, the little old 
lady handed the lawyer a card at which he 
glanced with careless politeness only to look at 
it again, this time with amazement, then up into 
the donor’s face with an expression of surprise 
and delight. 

Madame D’Albemarle ! I hold myself 
most fortunate in this chance meeting. Your 
wish shall be obeyed. Beg pardon. Here, Mr. 
Wilkins, to the hotel, please. We can soon ar- 
range this little matter there.” 

The farmer dropped Angelia’s sound arm, 
to which he had clung all the time, lest she 
should escape him, and recalled his wandering 
thoughts. 

^^The pesky critter’s gone and broke her 
arm, fer sure. I thought she was a shammin’, 
but it ain’t no sech thing. It’s broke, sure’s 
preachin’, an’ now what’ll she be good fer ?” 


202 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


Not much to you, of course. Only come 
across the square and we’ll arrange all that. 
There’s a dinner waiting you besides.” 

Who’s ter pay ?” 

“ A lady who could buy and sell all Chelsea 
town, if she so desired. Have you ever heard 
of that rich woman who hired Judge Both- 
well’s elegant country seat, during this last 
summer ?” 

Sartain. My wife made butter for her 
fambly. Though she didn’t know as she’d 
or ter, arter she heerd she’d been a-sellin’ it ter 
a public woman-singer.” 

Hum23h ! Don’t be a fool ! There’s many 
a public woman-singer could give a Christian 
j)oints on religion. Madame D’ Albemarle is 
one of that sort, besides being the leading 
woman of her 2 )rofession among all the English- 
s])eaking peo 2 )le. It is an honor to see her, let 
alone a far greater one to be invited to dine 
with her. And if you know which side your 
bread is buttered, you’ll treat any proj^osi- 
tion she may make you with resj^ect. Come, 
and put on your best comjDany manners.” 

Thus advised. Farmer Wilkins followed his 
legal guide across the street, whither Madame 


END AND BEGINNING OF A SERVICE 203 

D’ Albemarle and lier young j)i‘<^teges had 
preceded him, and watching with curious 
eyes the handsome turnout which Thomas 
and James were now driving toward the inn 
stables. 

It was an odd party, but one which the ex- 
songstress enjoyed to the utmost. She had a 
hatred of the commonplace, and cared not at all 
for the high-bred society dinners in which she 
frequently, from her own social position, was 
compelled to participate, and where people were 
seldom natural in their behavior; but this 
simple feast, which, by the way, was the best 
the resources of the country inn could furnish, 
with its untrained guests, delighted her. 

‘‘Now, Lawyer, make short shift of this 
man’s complaint against his ex-servant. I 
wish to engage her, and she has — through my 
means — become useless to him. Broken arms 
are not good either for milking or scrubbing. 
Ask him what he will take to release her, and 
give me a paper acquitting her of every sort of 
sin against him. I leave it to your wit to make 
the transaction legal, but I want it settled at 
once. Then this poor, little girl will eat her 
roast turkey in peace.” 


204 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


** I dunno, ma’am. I dunno what ter say 
three years’ labor would be wuth ter us.” 

At the end of three years you would have 
to pay her a hundred dollars, wouldn’t you? 
And a new suit of clothes?” 

Yi — is, marm. I s’pose so. Only ‘ count ’ 
o’ her stealin’ — ” 

Hush ! Don’t you use that word concern- 
ing anybody I have taken under my protection. 
Did you ever, in your youth, take apples out of 
anybody’s orchard ?” 

Humph ! That’s a dilferunt thing.” 

Exactly. Shoes that fit our neighbors gen- 
erally do pinch our own toes. Never, mind. 
Have another piece of that boiled fish, Farmer. 
It’ll do you good. And, Lawyer, just find out 
whether the good man has any fine apples to 
sell. I am very fond of apples. Especially I 
should like some of the AVilkins’ apples, I am 
certain. If they were at all like the AYilkins’ 
butter— ‘ A No. 1 !’ ” 

In five minutes that astute reader of human 
nature had made the poor dazed farmer fairly 
beam with happiness and pride ; in another she 
had so flattered his self-love that he began 
already to imagine the stories he would have to 


END AND BEGINNING OF A SERVICE 205 

tell when lie got borne again, and could boast 
that' he bad not only seen the richest woman 
who ever came into those parts, but had actu- 
ally dined with her and on equal terms. 

As for Angelia Parthenia Todd — fear was 
forgotten, and joy radiated from her freckled 
face as she received glance after glance of affec- - 
tionate encouragement from the bright eyes of 
the little lady who had so unexpectedly been 
introduced into her life. 

‘‘ See, Farmer. I haven’t to eat drumsticks 
this time ! I do not mean to eat them any 
more. And some time — in the distant future, I 
invite you and all the Wilkinses, big and little, 
to dine with me at this same inn and on the 
best the market can supply.” 

Don’t be silly, gal !” 

No, indeed ! If I were going to be that I 
should not be able to carry out my plans. I 
mean, on the contrary, to be as wise and well- 
informed as it is possible to become. If study 
can help me, I shall be a walking miracle of 
knowledge — ‘ A Daniel come to judgment ! A 
wise young judge !’ ” 

“Well, well, my Portia! Eat your dinner, 
now. Then go out to the store I see yonder 


206 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


and buy some things for you and pretty Jean 
while I square accounts with your former em- 
ployer/’ commanded Madame, smiling. 

I — I do not need anything, ma’am,” re- 
monstrated Jean, timidly. She had from the 
first moment accepted the Madame as Angelia’s 
friend more than hers, and a latent pride for- 
bade her accepting any favors done to her at 
second hand, or rather of necessity. She re- 
joiced with all her heart for her comrade’s 
sake, and she was not envious on her own ac- 
count. But she did not feel that she ought to 
receive more than the crumbs ” by the way, 
so to speak. 

No, Wood Nymph ! I see you do not need 
anything but shoes, stockings, hat, jacket, etc., 
etc. However, be so kind as to sujDply yourself 
and Miss Parthenia with those four articles, 
duplicated to fit your different heights, and I 
will be contented until we get to New York, and 
I can do better for you. Now, here is some 
money. Trot !” 

As the lady spoke she tossed upon the table 
two gold double eagles as carelessly as another 
might a copper cent, but the money lay there 
untouched, for all eyes rested upon it in amaze- 


END AND BEGINNING OF A SERVICE 207 

ment. Those of Farmer Wilkins with greed, 
as well, but Jean^s in indifferent curiosity. 
Good gracious, children ! Why don’t you go ? 
You look as if you didn’t know what money 
is !” 

Oh, but I do know what it is, only — I — I 
think I have no right to use your money for my 
needs, unless I can do something in return,” 
replied Angelia Parthenia, simply. 

“ Well, Farmer Wilkins, if that is the sort of 
teaching my new maid has learned at your house, 
you are not half as bad a fellow as I thought. 
As for you Miss Todd — horrors ! what a name ! 
will you enter my service herewith, to do for me 
whatever I may require, and to learn of me 
what I may choose to teach ?” 

Of course I will. But if I have not been 
worth wages for doing such labor as milking 
and cooking, certainly I shall not be for just 
waiting upon a lady like you.” 

Stuff ! If I hear any more such twaddle I 
shall think I have been mistaken in you. I 
would not have hesitated to take the first friendly 
hand held out to me on my entrance to a career !” 

“ Nor will I, Madame D’Albemarle ! In ad- 
vance, then, I very gladly take this money, and 


208 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


will use it for my darling Jean and myself. 
Come on, dearie ! You’re going to have a pair 
of shoes of your own, henceforth, and not have 
to borrow mine when you bruise your pretty 
foot. Hurrah ! To fame and fortune !” And 
throwing her sound arm about her friend, the 
high-spirited Angelia Parthenia jingled the 
coins in her hand and hurried storeward. 

When she returned Farmer Wilkins had 
been disposed of, or rather his claim had been 
satisfied, and Madame, their benefactress, held a 
paper in her possession which gave her absolute 
authority over the services of the bound-out girl 
until her coming of age, as transferred by the 
original employer of that young woman in con- 
tract with the Poor Board of the town of Chelsea, 
State of New York. 

But I thought he said I was to be arrested 
for ^ larceny,’ ” said Angelia, not yet wholly 
believing that she had indeed heard the last of 
that matter of the purloined food. 

Larceny — fiddlesticks !” 

But — the law. Isn’t the law terribly 
strong ? Strong enough to take me away, even 
from anybody as kind as you ? Will I never 
have to be ' tried ’ ? I feel brave enough to think 


END AND BEGINNING OF A SERVICE 209 


now I can plead my own case so that no kind- 
hearted man or jury would punish me very 
much, and I am more than willing to pay for 
what I took — some time. When I can.” 

My dear, never count upon the kindness of 
any man’s heart ! Nor upon the stringency of 
the law, which is strong I grant you, but not as 
strong as one thing else.” 

“ What is that ?” 

Money, sweet simpleton. ’Tis money up- 
holds the world, and conquers all within it.” 

Save one thing, dear lady.” 

What’s that which money cannot down ? 
You wise young Portia, teaching a grandmother 
wisdom !” 

Love. And I love you Madame. Not for 
the gifts you have made me and the future you 
have opened to me, but because you believed in 
me and understood me. Even as Jean here, 
who certainly did not gain my heart and devo- 
tion by any use of gold !” 

Humjoh ! I like you child. I like you 
greatly. And there comes the boat. I hear the 
whistle. Let us step out and see that Thomas 
and James get the horses safely aboard, then 
take our places also. I hope with this, your 
14 


210 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


first sail over a famous river, you set sail for 
happiness as well ! And if you are what you 
seem, you have given me a new interest in life. 
Come, let us go.” 

In a little while afterward all were on board 
the big steamer and moving smoothly down the 
stream ; and Jean clasping the hand of her 
stronger companion, felt as if she were, indeed, 
beginning a new life ; but for her it was full of 
an undefined fear, while Angelia’s radiant smile 
told that in her mind fear had no place at all. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE HOUSE IN PALATIAL AVENUE 

‘‘ Oh ! how nice you look !” exclaimed 
Jean, on the day following the arrival of the 
waifs at the home of Madame D’Albermarle in 
New York. I am so glad that you have found 
such a splendid friend !” 

Oh ! isnT she just perfect ? If I can ever 
grow to be half as fine as she is, I shall be per- 
fectly satisfied. But why, dear, wouldnT you 
let her give you some pretty clothes too V’ 

Because there is no need she should as yet 
— or, indeed, ever. If my relatives do not re- 
ceive me I will find something to do to take care 
of myself. One couldnT expect a stranger to 
adopt two poor girls at once, could one ?” 

For the matter of that one couldn’t expect 
her to take even one in. But if me, why not 
you ?” 


212 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Because you are her own kind. I can’t tell 
it exactly but I felt it the moment I heard you 
speak to each other. You have the same sort 
of minds, maybe, or something. She is as 
bright as you are ; and you both say the oddest 
things which I should never think of saying. 
And it seems perfectly natural to you. I am 
sure you will be very happy together, and that 
it will be more like mother and daughter than 
mistress and maid. She thinks so, too. I saw 
she did right away.” 

At that moment Madame herself entered the 
rich apartment in which the two girls were, and 
which was the lady’s private sitting-room. 
Her eye fell instantly and with pleasure upon 
her own immediate ward, the proud Angelia 
Parthenia ; who in a tasteful costume that 
morning procured from a fashionable modiste’s, 
would never, to use her own words, ‘‘ have been 
taken for myself even by Ma Wilkins who has 
scolded me times enough to feel acquainted with 
me !” 

A hair-dresser had been called in to arrange 
the luxuriant hair, which Madame enthusiastic- 
ally described as a magnificent Titian red 
the fine eyes could not have been brightened by 


THE HOUSE IN PALATIAL AVENUE 213 

anything known to the costumer’s art ; nor the 
shapely, perfect figure have been improved by 
any brace or stay. Miss Todd looked, as she 
felt, to the manner born,” and her old dreams 
of aristocratic parentage returned to thrill her 
soul anew. 

As her benefactress came in, she flew to move 
a chair into the most comfortable spot, and 
rolled a footstool before it with a natural ease 
and grace as if she had been accustomed to 
ladies’ boudoirs and ladies’ fancies all her life 
long ; and seeing a quizzical smile flit across 
Madame’s countenance she instantly interpreted 
it correctly. 

Ah ! You dear, blessed, good little Madame ! 
You are wondering, as I am, how I know how 
to do things so soon ! Do you believe me — it 
does not seem possible that I am the same girl 
who used to milk the cows and wash the dirty 
linen at Farmer Wilkins’ house! Only day be- 
fore yesterday was it, or a thousand years ago ? 
All there is to remind me of it, is the hardness 
of my hands. But that will pass — it shall pass. 
They are not bad hands for shape ; and I must 
take care of them. A great elocutionist must 
take care of herself in every way, must she not ? 


214 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Her good looks are part of her stock in trade. 
I am glad I am good-looking, though I never 
dreamed I was until I saw myself in your glass 
after the clothes woman had finished dressing 
me this morning. It is a beautiful surprise. 
And I am so glad, so glad I must sing ! May 
I ?” 

^‘Unless you know how, you certainly may 
not, Miss Vanity !” retorted the little Madame, 
laughing merrily ; for she saw that silly as An- 
gelia’s words may seem in the repetition 
there was no trace of ordinary vanity about 
them in reality. It was only that the child had 
suddenly wakened to a sense of her own good 
points and was estimating them exactly as any- 
body else estimates the capital he may bring to 
a chosen business. 

But I do know how ! Though I never 
learned from anything except the birds in the 
wood. Shall I try ?” 

If you must !” 

Granted this much permission the ambitious 
girl burst into a song that certainly startled, if 
it did not please, her listeners. Of coui’se it was 
from Shakespeare, the only storehouse of An- 
gelia’s knowledge ; but the selection was about 


THE HOUSE IN PALATIAL AVENUE 215 

as bad as the improvised tune, which could by- 
no means be called a melody. 

‘^All that glitters is not gold, 

Often have you heard that told ; 

Many a man his life hath sold — ’’ 

‘‘ Great Goodness ! Stop — stop cried 

Madame D’ Albemarle, rising suddenly and 
clapping her hands to her ears. 

Angelia ceased instantly, and turned upon 
her hostess with the utmost astonishment. 

Why ! Don’t you like it ?” 

Like it ! I should think not, indeed ! I 
never heard anything so perfectly outrageous ! 
except one thing : the crowing of a half-grown 
cock of an early morning. It was of that I 
thought at sound of the very first note. Sing ! 
Not you, indeed ! You have a voice. A strong 
one — it will never be sweet, though training 
will do for it all that is necessary. But sing ! 
Hark. I am seventy-five years old, but I can 
yet show you what singing is ; or D’ Albemarle 
will ‘ hie her to a nunnery !’ ” 

With that the little old lady tripped across 
the room to her piano and striking a few notes 
by way of prelude began to sing so softly and 
easily that it seemed she but opened her lips 


216 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


and the melody floated from them without effort 
or volition of her own. The words were those 
of the same song which Angelia Parthenia had 
chosen — but there all similitude ended. 

When the song was over and the rich and 
perfect voice, which even age had respected, 
ceased, the impulsive would-be songstress was 
on her knees by the piano-stool and her fine 
eyes were suffused with tears, but not tears of 
shame at her own defeat. 

‘‘ Oh ! you wonderful woman ! I will never 
sing again ! I never heard anything like it 

“Nonsense! You will sing a great many 
times and perhaps before crowded houses. You 
will sing and I shall like to hear you ; but not 
yet — not yet I The profession of singing or of elo- 
cution, of anything worthy the name of either, 
for that matter, is the study of a lifetime. You 
have the elements of a great impersonator ; but 
— not yet, not yet, indeed and shaking her 
white head soberly the wise little woman re- 
turned to her chair and her contemplation of 
Jean WildePs personal affairs. 

“Well, my Wood Nymph, since you will 
have nothing of me or mine — until you have 
tried your own flesh and blood first, I have 


THE HOUSE m PALATIAL AVENUE 217 

ordered Thomas to bring round the horses, and 
I will myself drive to Number 333 Palatial 
Avenue and place you carefully in charge of 
your friends. But I wish you would accept a 
simple suit of some sort, first ; something a little 
better than you have on.’’ 

Thank you, Madame, but I would rather 
not. Unless you do not like to go out on the 
street with me looking as you do not like. 
Though I’m sure I never had anything half as 
nice before. That jacket and hat you gave me 
yesterday are beautiful, and the shoes and stock- 
ings so warm. I feel very, very rich already ; 
and I think I could find the place by myself, 
perhaps. I do not like to give you so much 
trouble.” 

Oh, you gentle little wood-bird ! As if 
D’Albemarle dared not ride with anybody she 
chose, even a tramp. And as for you and 
that pretty squirrel you keep so fast by a 
string, I am honored to escort you. I am, 
indeed. I have not met anything so pure and 
sweet in many a long day. Besides, I suppose 
you will not object to taking another ride behind 
those mad cobs, will you ? I’m sure Angelia 
will not, even though she does have to carry her 


218 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


arm in a sling, and has had the sleeve of her 
first good gown ruined to accommodate it/’ 

‘‘ No, indeed,” said the happy Miss Todd ; I 
don’t mind how I go. Only I shall never forget 
how terrible it did seem to me when the clothes 
woman cut the sleeve to bind it above that mis- 
erable broken arm. I don’t see what made me 
so silly as to tumble down, anyhow.” 

‘‘ I was under the impression that you were 
knocked down, miss, and couldn’t help yourself. 
However, let us be off, so that Jean may have a 
chance to see her new home by daylight.” 

Then followed a gay and merry drive through 
many of the city’s choicest streets, for Madame 
D’ Albemarle enjoyed the pleasure of her pro- 
teges over their first glimpse of a great town, 
and delighted to prolong it; but at last the 
carriage turned into one of the quiet side 
avenues, where the magnificent houses all look 
as if they were too proper and fine to admit of 
any real, happy life within their walls. 

“ This is the most aristocratic street in Gotham, 
my dear, and I don’t know as your fine friends 
will ever admit me if I call upon you, since I 
live in plebian ‘ Bohemia.’ No, no ; that is jest, 
of course. You do not take a joke as readily as 


THE HOUSE IN PALATIAL AVENUE 219 

Angelia Parthenia does, my quiet little mouse. 
And, of course, even the residents of Palatial 
Avenue will be honored to have D’Albemarle 
visit them. Yes, yes, indeed. It is a very good 
thing for you that I am the one who presents 
you. A very, very good thing ! They will 
know you have one influential friend, at least. 
And now, shall I go up with you, or do you 
prefer to go alone ?” 

‘‘ Oh, please, please go with me ! It all 
looks so big and cold and hard. Nothing 
but stones anywhere, even the streets. I begin 
to shiver already. I am so afraid of — I don^t 
know what 

Stage fright, my dear ! Pure stage fright ! 
It will pass. Come on, then. No, Angelia, 
remain in the carriage. You can bid Jean 
good-by there, and it will be for only a little 
while. Come, Jean.’’ 

Obediently the coarsely clad girl followed 
the richly attired woman up the broad stone 
steps which led to the sculptured door of what 
appeared to the woodlander exactly like the 
]n*ison of her imagination. Her heart beat 
fiercely and her throat felt dry and husky. 
What if they should turn her off! Alone in 


220 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


that terrible city ! For she did not, somehow, 
reckon the Madame as a permanent friend, 
who would be bothered again. 

It seemed as if they had stood for hours 
upon that terrible step before the great door 
swung silently back and a man in queer, 
yellow clothes appeared at the opening. 
Madame D’ Albemarle presented him her card 
and was courteously ushered within the portals. 
But even here the resemblance to a prison 
did not end, nor did Jean loose her tight grasp 
of her chapcxon’s skirt as she followed that 
lady forward. 

A second servant appeared, and receiving 
the Madame’s card upon a silver tray, retired 
with it. Then followed a still longer waiting, 
and, finally, the footman came back, bowed 
before Madame D^Albemarle, and announced 
gravely : The ladies are not at home.’’ 

The visitor’s eyes were keen. It was prob- 
able her experience had also given her a 
subtle understanding of many things not ex- 
pressed in words. Her face flushed a little, 
then drawing a second bit of pasteboard 
from her card-case, and murmuring politely, 
‘‘ Allow me,” she wrote a few words upon 


THE HOUSE IN PALATIAL AVENUE 221 

the card and offered it to the servant in 
yellow livery. 

“ Be so good as to give that to your mis- 
tress. Jean, if I do not hear from you by 
to-morrow morning, I shall conclude that all is 
well with you. I slipped my card and address 
in the pocket of your jacket before we set out. 
If you need me, come to me ; but I hope that 
you will not. Good-by ! May the world use 
you as you deserve 

Lady Barefoot did not understand quite how 
it happened, but overcome by her own awe of 
her strange surroundings, or not expecting any 
such action on the Madame’s part, the door had 
opened for their exit, the lady had passed out 
into the street, and she, herself, had, by the 
same, little, daintily-gloved hand, been thrust 
backward into the corner of the dimly lighted 
hall, while the heavy outer doors clanged shut 
between herself and every person she had ever 
known. 

Then a bitter cry escaped her. So might a 
young wildling of the forest cry, finding itself 
in a traji. 

Angelia ! Angelia ! Madame ! Oh, Ma- 
dame— don’t leave me ! Don’t — I am afraid !” 


CHAPTEE XIX 

THE AUNTS MONTGOMERY 

“ For goodness sake, child, hush 

Now, for once at least, was the rigid footman, 
Dodson, startled out of his wooden calmness. 
Never had such a piercing shriek as that echoed 
through the aristocratic halls of the Misses 
Montgomery, number 333 Palatial Avenue. 
Always were precautions taken to deaden any 
noise which might shock the delicate nerves of 
the residents, but this sudden, ear-splitting, 
desperate cry had come without any prepara- 
tion. 

“ Hush ! Hush ! Hush !’’ The sibilant 
whisper of the frightened Dodson was almost 
as loud as Jean’s cry. ‘‘You must — be still ! 
It may cost me my place to allow such a racket 
as this ! Be quiet and then I’ll let you out ! 
But I dare not open the door till you are still, 
222 


THE AUNTS MONTGOMERY 


223 


lest hearing the two sounds together Miss Mont- 
gomery or Miss Sophie might think of burglars 
and go into one of her ‘ spells.’ Do be quiet ! 
Do sit down a moment while — ” 

Alas for the best intentions ! In this 
enforced detention Jean saw but fresh proof of 
her imprisonment,” and again her young 
throat emitted the shrillest cry of which it was 
capable. 

Then there appeared a woman descending the 
stairs. Her feet sank silently in the thick pile 
of the carpet, and she advanced toward Jean 
with such directness of intention and such stern- 
ness of bearing that the girl became silent and 
awaited what might come next. 

‘‘ Dodson, who is this ?” The speaker’s tone 
was not lifted above a trained monotone, yet its 
intonation thrilled Dodson with fear. Without 
raising her voice Miss Sophie Montgomery 
could give to her words a dozen different mean- 
ings. To Dodson, trembling in his short clothes, 
its present intonation meant : Look out for 
yourself, my man ! I hold you responsible for 
this.” 

‘H do not know, ma’am. I think she must 
be a beggar, or a poor child trying to sell some- 


224 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


thing. On account of your being so well known 
for charity, Miss Sophie, ma’am.^’ 

Sell something, Dodson ? The place for 
salesfolk and beggars is at another door.’’ The 
voice now expressed amazement at the servant’s 
unwarrantable forgetfulness of ordinary customs. 

Yes, ma’am. But it was with a caller she 
came. The same whose card was just sent above 
stairs.” 

The public singer ? Show her the door, 
Dodson !” 

Whisker had all this time been quietly repos- 
ing in the pocket of Jean’s new jacket, a nest 
he found very comfortable and cosy ; but he 
now awoke and, as usual, decided to take a 
hand in affairs. He seriously interfered with 
his little mistress’ departure by leaping from 
his place of rest and landing plump among the 
white curls which formed Miss Sophie’s becom- 
ing bang and which distance was the utmost 
limit his degrading string would allow him to 
spring. 

Then something unprecedented happened: 
Miss Sophie Montgomery screamed as loudly, 
as fearfully, as her young relative had just 
done. My gracious, Dodson ! Ouch — ouch ! 


THE AUNTS MONTGOMEEY 


225 


What is it? What— is — it! Oh! my heart! 
Oil ! — I — Dodson — Gracious — ’’ 

‘‘ Don^t faint, Miss Sophie ! Please, don^t 
faint ! Not till I can bring you a chair to be 
comfortable on ! Don’t — ” 

‘‘ You need not be afraid, ma’am. It is noth- 
ing but Whisker !” said Lady Barefoot, 
laughing ; her fear, for the moment, held in 
abeyance by the absurdity of the scene before 
her, and which the mischievous Whisker ap- 
peared to enjoy to the utmost. He whirled 
round and round upon the lady’s head, refusing 
to be captured and removed by anybody till 
Jean reached upward and administered to his 
soft little body a sharp tap, though a punish- 
ment she hated to inflict. 

Dodson brought a chair forward and Miss 
Sophie sank into it ; while upon the stairs ap- 
peared two more slender, white-haired women, 
peering with timid curiosity into the hall 
below. 

Suddenly Jean remembered that she had 
heard the footman say the ‘‘ ladies were out 
and believing these to be servants she ran 
toward them, demanding : Do you live here? 

With my Aunts Montgomery ?” 

15 


226 


MY LADY BAREDOOt 


Live — here — with — my — Aunts — Mont- 
gomery repeated the two new-comers, in 
utmost astonishment. Is — the girl — crazy — 
Dodson 

No, ma’am, I am not crazy ! But I begin 
to think everybody else is ! I came here with a 
lady to call upon my Aunts Montgomery, and 
ask them, if they would take me to live with 
them, as my grandfather wished me to do ; and 
all is so different — and dreadful — and the man 
says they are away — And — see ! This is the 
letter ! Can you read ? Either of you ? If 
you can you will see I am telling you just as it 
is. Grandfather Wilder — ” 

Grandfather — Wilder — ” gasped one of the 
ladies on the stair, and sank upon a step to 
recover herself. 

‘‘ Grandfather Wilder !” repeated another, 
while Miss Sophie began to fan herself vigor- 
ously. “Child, who are you ?” 

“ Jean Montgomery Wilder !” 

“ Are you — telling — the truth ?” 

“ Of course, ma’am ! I never told a lie in my 
life ! See ! Here is the letter. Will you read it ? 
Will you tell my aunts? Will they be kind? 
I am so desolate — so all alone !” 


THE AUNTS MONTGOMERY 


227 


One thin white hand was stretched out to 
take the extended paper, and the aristoci’atic 
fingers touched it carefully, as if afraid of con- 
tamination. But the hand belonged to Miss 
Montgomery, the elder of the trio of maiden 
sisters, and she prided herself upon her strength 
of character. She was always ready to set a 
good example to her younger and weaker sis- 
ters, and she now nerved herself to face this 
dreadful ordeal with the dignity which a Mont- 
gomery should ever show, no matter how trying 
the situation. 

Silence. I will read this aloud.’’ 

Not a sound, save the clear tones of the 
reader was heard during the next five minutes ; 
and the brief epistle had been gone through 
twice within that time. 

Silence again ; and then Miss Montgomery 
announced: ‘‘We — are your Aunts Montgom- 
ery ! We are — the sisters of that misguided 
woman who married a Wilder, and had her 
heart broken for her recompense.” 

“ You — my aunts ! Oh ! Oh ! ” 

“ It seems so. But — let us be sure. Let us 
be sure. A mistake of this sort would be irre- 
trievable. Tell me all you know concerning 


228 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


this grandfather of yours, on the paternal side. 
Then we will have proof that you are a genuine 
descendant of our old family or an impostor.” 

Jean did not at all understand all they said 
to her, but she told them whatever she could 
remember about her grandfather and his lonely 
life and death ; and from their former acquaint- 
ance with him, the Aunts Montgomery,” 
whose sister had estranged herself from them 
by her marriage to old Israel’s son, became fully 
convinced that their small visitor was neither 
beggar-maid nor saleswoman, but their own 
niece. 

‘‘Well !” exclaimed Miss Sophie. 

“Well?” questioned Miss Emily, the young- 
est of the trio. 

“ Well,” remarked Miss Montgomery, de- 
cidedly ; “ I think I have always recognized my 
duty under all circumstances, no matter who 
painful ; and having recognized it, it is needless 
to say that — with the exception of our misled 
younger sister — a Montgomery always fulfills 
what is expected of her. Sisters, we will retire 
to our apartments. Jean Montgomery Wilder, 
you will accompany us.” 

Whisker had not been invited ; and he had 


THE AUNTS MONTGOMEKY 


229 


betaken himself once more, after his punish- 
ment, to that secure new nest of his in his mis- 
tress’ pocket ; but something now moved him to 
poke his funny little head thence and inquire 
with his bright black eyes if all were as it 
should be outside his hiding place. 

Seeing this Miss Sophie screeched a high-bred 
screech. Miss Montgomery reproved her, and 
Miss Emily exclaimed, My ! how cunning !” 

‘‘ Emily — Emily ! When will you outgrow 
your youthful enthusiasm ? Do try to be more 
sedate, dear Emily, even if you are inexpe- 
rienced.” 

Even Jean found something amusing in this 
remark, which would have set Angelia Par- 
thenia off into a gale of merriment, and smiling 
more brightly than she had felt she ever could 
do again, she turned to her younger aunt with 
the assurance : ‘‘ He is, indeed, the very most 
cunning little fellow in the world, and the 
best. He did not mean any harm by jumping 
on Aunt Sophie’s head, but I suppose he thought 
her hair looked ever so soft and pretty and 
he liked to play in it. You see, I have let him 
play in my curls as much as he likes, though 
sometimes he tangles them dreadfully, and until 


230 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


yesterday I never had a very good comb to 
straighten them with. But Madame D’Albe- 
marle — 

Hush, child ! The servants ! Bestrain your 
further confidences until we are in my boudoir. 
Meanwhile, give that wild animal to Dodson to 
dispose of. The idea of a Montgomery going 
about with a squirrel in her arms.’’ 

But Jean was a Montgomery, too, and she 
resolutely clasped her favorite and only play- 
mate to her breast, refusing utterly to be parted 
from him, even for a moment, which same Avas 
to the very great relief of Dodson, who did not 
like to soil his aristocratic fingers by contact 
with anything so plebian as a, wild animal.” 

You’ll all love him very much after you get 
acquainted with him. Even Grandfather did, 
though he was used to seeing all sorts of 
creatures about. We used to live upon the 
sale — ” 

Hush, Jean ! I command ! The remainder 
of your disclosures will be heard above stairs.” 

“ Blood is thicker than water.” The orphan’s 
fear of this strange house and her new relatives 
had vanished. She did not like them ; she did 
not like them at all, except perhaps the rather 


THE AUNTS MONTGOMERY 


231 


weak-minded Miss Emily ; but she felt slie bad 
a right to their protection, and that though they 
were not half so agreeable as Madame D’Albe- 
marle, she would find more interests in common 
with them when she came to know them better 
than she could ever do with that erratic but 
brilliant old lady. Besides, she was obeying her 
grandfather, and obedience had been the habit 
of her life. So she followed her aunts up the 
stairs, wondering at everything she saw, and 
rendered silent by the richness and luxury 
which surrounded her. 

As she sank upon a chair in her eldest aunt^s 
private boudoir and was commanded to remove 
her hat and jacket, a sigh escaped her. To 
think you have been having all these beautiful 
things all this time and I have been sleeping on 
a pile of pine branches ! Isn’t it funny ?” 

There was no reproach in the tone, but only 
the extremest wonder. 

You forget, child, that we did not even 
know of your existence. Bather, we did not 
know of your living, though when you were 
born the estrangement between your mother 
and ourselves had not become final. She was a 
pretty, silly young thing, misled by the first 


232 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


flattering voice she heard, else she never would 
have married — ’’ 

‘‘ Hush, Sophia ! There is no occasion to re- 
view the past. The daughter of our dead sister 
has come to us for protection. We will give it 
her. On either side there are no questions to 
ask, except the strictly necessary ones of how 
far her education and training have gone. We 
care nothing for Israel AVilder, his life or death. 
Jean is Montgomery. As such we accept her 
and will treat her. Let this be the end of the 
matter.’’ 

But—” 

‘‘ But — that is all. I am not accustomed to 
having my decisions set aside. To you, Emily, 
I will assign the task of having the little room 
adjoining yours put in order for a child’s or 
young girl’s sleeping room. To you, Sophia, I 
will leave the providing of a suitable wardrobe 
as soon as possible. You will know what is 
proper. It must be simple and severe in taste. 
I will reserve the mental training, and consider 
that I have selected our several duties with 
judgment and discretion. If you two will now 
kindly withdraAV, I will examine the ground 
whereon I stand in regard to our charge’s educa- 


THE AUNTS MONTGOMERY 


233 


tioii, and prepare myself to meet tlie necessities 
of the case at once/’ 

Miss Sophie sniffed a little, though still in a 
well-bred manner, and slipped softly out of the 
boudoir. Miss Emily smiled more brightly 
than she often did, and followed her sister, but 
paused with her hand upon the portiere long 
enough to inquire : ‘‘ Can I arrange the room 
exactly as I wish ?” 

“ Certainly; only do not ‘ wish ’ to fill it with 
flummery. The training of a child’s taste 
should begin early.” 

Then I’ll make it as pretty as I can, my 
dear !” said Aunt Emily, brightly, and this was 
the first kind word, or, rather, loving word 
which Jean Wilder heard after she had thrown 
herself upon the hospitality of her three spinster 
aunts. 


CHAPTEE XX 


ANGELIA PAYS A VISIT 

Eing down the curtain, my dear ! That is 
over with !’’ cried Madame D’ Albemarle as she 
returned to her carriage, after leaving Jean 
within the shelter of her aunts’ home. 

‘‘ What do you mean ?” asked Angelia Par- 
thenia, in surprise. 

I mean exactly what I say. You have 
parted forever from your woodland friend.” 

Impossible ! I will not be parted from her ! 
Here ; please let me get out and go back there 
to her ! It is terrible to be told such a thing as 
that — my sweet, dear little ‘sister’. Lady Bare- 
foot. I will not have anything I cannot share 
with her — she’s ever so much better than I 
am !” 

The carriage did not stop, however, for this 
impetuous outburst ; nor did Madame attempt to 
234 


ANGELIA PAYS A VISIT 


235 


check it. She leaned back among her cushions, 
smiling amusedly and regarding her protege 
with critical admiration. “ Yes, indeed, my 
dear. You will certainly succeed. Your ex- 
pression at this moment is worthy a most serious 
matter. You are intense, you are dramatic ; 
you have not mistaken your calling, for nature 
unaided by art has made you true to herself in 
all your moods and tenses. 

Oh ! please, don’t ! This isn’t acting — it’s 
real, awful trouble ! I love Jean Wilder as if 
she belonged to me. We are one as poor as the 
other. I will not have any good thing which I 
cannot share with her. Please, let me go back.” 

There, there, that will do. Do you like 
me ? Have I been good to you ?” 

You know that I more than like you ! You 
know that you have been more than good to 
me !” 

Well, then, listen. I was turned out of that 
house as unfit to enter it.” 

Wh-a-a-t ! Please — what did you say ?” 

Even the well-trained Thomas turned around 
at this cry, and looked inquiringly upon his 
beloved mistress, who smiled composedly and 
nodded her head for him to proceed as usual. 


236 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Quite true. Only, of course, it was done in 
a perfectly, a scrupulously well-bred way. My 
dear, public personages, however famous, do 
not belong to New York’s ^four hundred’, that 
is, to New York’s most exclusive society. The 
Montgomerys of Palatial Avenue do. There- 
fore, though thousands of doors equally grand 
would open eagerly to receive me, the doors of 
Number 333 remain tightly closed when D ’Al- 
bemarle comes tapping for admission, even in 
so slight a degree as introducing a waif she has 
picked up by the roadside.” 

‘‘ Madame ! This seems incredible ! You are 
making sport of me, are you not?” 

Unfortunately for your present happiness, 
I am telling you the exact truth. It is just 
possible that these aunts of pretty Jean’s may 
repudiate her and turn her adrift again ; in 
which case we will befriend her to our utmost. 
I took care to leave her my address and I 
think she would apply to us if she needed us. 
But the most likely thing is that people so 
highly respectable and exclusive will do their 
‘ duty’ to the end, no matter whether they wish 
to do it or not. That is the one thing I have 
always admired about your true aristocrat. He 


ANGELIA PAYS A VISIT 


237 


is always ‘ game/ no matter where you put him. 
So I think my Wood Nymph has not only 
found a bower to dwell in, but a bower whence 
common human creatures like you and me will 
be rigidly excluded. The ladies sent down 
word that they were not at home. But they 
were. I know it.’’ 

Tiieii they told falsehoods ?” 

‘‘ Certainly. It is better to do that than to 
step outside the prescribed pale. No, no ! I am 
not half so bitter as I seem. I don’t blame 
them. They are right according to their lights, 
and so am I according to mine ; only the fact 
remains, so make the best of it ; your friend 
Jeau will not be allowed to associate with you 
any more.” 

To picture the mobile countenance of Angelia 
Parthenia Todd during these remarks would be 
impossible. Every emotion which Madame’s 
words aroused played upon its surface in full 
intensity ; and it was for this very reason that 
the little old lady prolonged the talk. Like 
Miss Montgomery, at that very moment, she 
was experimenting and testing the mental capa- 
bilities of her new charge. 

‘‘Well — then I am sorry I ever came to New 


238 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


York ! I am almost sorry we ever met you. It 
seems so terrible — ’’ 

‘‘ Be fair-minded, my dear. You forget that 
you were on your road to this town, any way, 
and would have reached here by hook or by 
crook, some time, even if I had not helped you 
forward. Besides, just as certainly would you 
have taken Jean to Palatial Avenue, and been 
yourself excluded from it. With this differ- 
ence : that without me you would have been 
turned adrift among the pitfalls of a wicked 
town alone, unfriended. Now I can care for 
you, love you. No, no. It is all right. It is 
inevitable. Don^t ever quarrel with fate ; but 
‘ take the good the gods give you ’ and be thank- 
ful. I had arranged to go abroad for this win- 
ter. If we do not hear from our little wood bird 
within the week, we may conclude that all is 
well with her and set sail with joyful hearts. 
Shall you like that ?’^ 

The tears were streaming down Angelinas 
cheeks but she raised her fine eyes and smiled 
through her sorrow upon the generous woman 
before her. Then she leaned forward and 
kissed the small, gloved hand, resting in the 
lady’s lap, with heartfelt devotion. 


Angelia pays a visit 


239 


“ I shall like anything which you wish, dear 
Madame. But I cannot understand how you 
can take such things so calmly. I should be 
boiling over with indignation, if I were great — 
like you — and thought anybody felt above me 
— that way 

And very pretty and silly you would look, 
my dear. I would not change places with any- 
body in this world, dear child. What I am, I 
have made myself. But do, if you have any 
regard for yourself in the future, take care 
of that broken arm of yours ! The way you 
manage to do things, one-handed as you are, is 
marvelous, but a little dangerous to the 
surgeon’s success. Now, I am going to take you 
into a restaurant for a cup of chocolate and to 
show you a glimpse of the busy people in this 
town. I wish you to watch how I do, and 
listen to the way I give my order. The next 
time I shall expect you to do the same yourself, 
for both of us. It will be part of your ‘service,’ 
about which you are so anxious. You are to 
take care of a childless old woman like a faithful 
maid or a loving daughter. Whichever you 
will.” 

Angelia would again have demonstrated her 


240 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


gratitude by an extravagant caress but a slight 
motion of Madame D’ Albemarle’s hand re- 
strained her and gave her a delicate hint, swiftly 
understood, that it was time she began to adapt 
herself to the usages of the world in which she 
was now to live. 

But nothing could restrain the brilliant, ador- 
ing smile which she bestowed upon her bene- 
factress, nor the reverent attention she presently 
accorded the first simple lesson the country girl 
received of ‘‘ how to order a luncheon.” 

Nor did her observation end there. Every 
motion of her companion was noted, and 
when the cup of chocolate ” received the 
addition of several dishes, with their specially 
designed methods of serving, she took to the 
thing” with a readiness highly gratifying to 
Madame. 

‘‘Ah, ha, my dear! In six months’ time 
you will have forgotten the farm !” 

“ Beg pardon, but I shall not, I shall remem- 
ber it — but as a dreadful nightmare. Are you 
pleased with me? Do I behave not so very, 
very awkwardly?” 

“You behave very satisfactorily, indeed. 
Now, let us drive to the office of the steam- 


ANGELIA PAYS A VISIT 


241 


sliip company, and then home. I am a little 
tired.’’ 

Afterward, on that home-ride, Angelia broke 
forth again: 

But it all seems like a dream ! I heard you 
buying my ticket for Paris, though where on 
the face of the earth that place is, I am sure I 
don’t know ! And I saw you pay out a lot of 
money ; and I kept pinching myself and saying : 

‘ Say, Angelia, wake up ! Is this you, or is it 
not ?’ But I can’t believe it ! I expect to get a 
knock on the head soon and be told: ‘Hurry 
up with them milk-pails, sass box, er I’ll tan 
yer hide fer ye !’ I do indeed !” 

Angelia’s imitation of Farmer Wilkins’ tone 
and speech was perfect, and Madame drove on- 
ward laughing far more than she thought was 
proper for a street occasion. But laughter does 
nobody harm, and the little lady felt she had 
already been repaid for all the trouble she was 
taking for her new charge. 

The end of the week came round without a 
word having been heard concerning Jean ; and 
Angrelia became convinced that it was useless to 
hope for any being sent. So she resolved to 
take the matter into her own hands, and went 
16 


242 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


one morning immediately preceding her depar- 
ture for France, to the Madame with the request 
for permission to go out. 

Alone, child ?” 

‘‘ Yes’m. I am not afraid. I could not get 
lost.’^ 

<< Why do you wish to go 

‘‘ I would rather not tell.’’ 

Oh ! As you like. In any case it is unnec- 
essary. I know where you wish to go, and 
I tell you beforehand it will be ‘ Love’s Labors 
Lost.’ ” 

Perhaps. But I cannot, I cannot bear to 
go away, so far as you say Paris is, and for six 
long months without seeing my darling Jean 
again. I cannot. I will see her, if I have to 
break into the house to do it !” 

You will do nothing of the kind. And you 
will be disappointed. You will get yourself 
into trouble, I fear. You are so impulsive.” 

Please let me try.” 

You wheedler ! When you have already 
made up your mind beforehand ! Well, go ; 
and luck attend you ! Also, Thomas or James !” 

‘‘ I would rather go on foot, by myself. I 
will not get astray.” 


ANGELIA PAYS A VISIT 


243 


‘‘Well, trot! But remember I shall feel as 
badly for you as you do for Jean, if you do 
not return to me/^ 

“ Of course I’ll return. In good season, too.” 

AVith a laugh and a jest Angelia Parthenia 
set forth on her first journey through the un- 
known streets of the city, more confused by the 
directions which her careful patron gave her 
than if she had been let to go unguided save by 
her own observation. 

But views from a carriage window and views 
on foot are different, as Angelia presently found ; - 
and it was not until she had questioned as least 
a dozen different policemen, according to 
Madame’s instruction, and had boarded cars 
going down town when she wished to go up, 
that she finally did find herself before the 
very house which had swallowed up her beloved 
Lady Barefoot as completely as a prison 
swallows its inmates. 

But Miss Todd marched boldly up to the 
front door and rang the bell. She had provided 
herself with the card-case Madame had given 
her, and where the common name of “ Todd ” 
had been changed to the higher sounding one of 
“ D’ Albemarle according to the Madame’s 


244 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


reasoning it being no worse to choose a name for 
one^s self than to wear a name bestowed ui^on 
one by a Poor Board, and selected at hap-hazard 
from any number of equally ordinary ones. 

‘‘ I declare, Angelia Parthenia, aren’t we 
getting up in the world ? Who would have 
dared to prophesy a week ago that I would now 
be calling upon aristocrats in New York and 
feeling myself top of the heap, as I certainly 
do. I don’t believe Jean will know me. I 
wonder if they have rigged her up as fine as I 
am. I — ” 

Open fiew the door, but not to reveal a 
servant’s face confronting her. No, indeed ! 
There stood Jean herself, laughing and dancing 
with delight, the very sweetest vision which that 
old portal had opened to disclose in many a long 
day. 

‘‘ Angelia, Angelia, you darling — how glad I 
am ! I never expected to see you again as long as 
I lived !” cried the joyous Lady Barefoot, bare- 
footed no longer — by long odds, and clasped her 
arms about her friend and drew her within the 
house and shut the door with a bang, which 
made it tremble for the consequences — that is, if 
doors can tremble ! 


ANGELTA PAYS A VISIT 


245 


Humph ! Madame told me I would not be 
allowed to enter. She said everything she could 
against my coming, lest I should be turned away 
and made to feel worse than ever.’’ 

Oh, we’re so lucky ! All the aunts have 
gone to different charity meetings, and Dodson 
is taking his breakfast — he takes it after every- 
body else is through — and the other servants 
are all busy. I was standing up by my bed- 
room window, and I saw you away down the 
street. I was so afraid Dodson would get back 
— and then — I don’t know what ! I am so glad 
— I am so glad ! Come right upstairs with me, 
before anybody sees you ! Quick !” 

Why ? I’m not afraid of anybody. Are 
you ?” 

I — I — they are very kind to me, my aunts 
are,” returned Jean, loyally, if not warmly. 

‘‘ But are you happy, dear?” 

I’ll tell you after we get upstairs. Hurry, 
before anybody sees us !” 

Angelia followed readily, though not fully 
understanding the great need there was for all 
this secrecy. Yet anything in the shape of a 
mystery commended itself to her immediately, 
and her blood rose at the prospect of outwitting 


246 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


somebody, she knew not whom. Up the stairs 
they flew, two steps at a time and noiselessly for 
the soft carpets. 

But at the very top Jean paused, uttered a 
little cry of dismay, then seized Angelia’s hand 
and dragged her forward swiftly. 

What — what is the matter ?’’ 

‘‘ Here comes Dodson. I thought he was 
downstairs. This way — into an empty closet 
I see open yonder.’’ 

Into the ‘‘ empty closet ” they flew, whose 
floor gave way beneath their weight and sent 
them speeding downwards with a horrible 
crash. 


CHAPTER XXI 


WHISKER IK AN ANIMAL BOARDING-HOUSE 

The Misses Montgomery had never returned 
from their several expeditions in charity’s 
behalf to find their hope in such condition, as 
on that morning of Angelia’s visit. 

As their brougham turned the last corner 
and brought them upon their own block, Miss 
Sophie leaned forward and exclaimed with dis- 
may in her voice : Will you look at those 

carriages before our door ! They are doctors’ 
carriages, or I am greatly mistaken. What can 
be the matter ?” 

Drive faster, Betts; though, of course, not 
unduly fast,” ordered Miss Montgomery, feeling 
her serenity disturbed more than she cared to 
show. “I suppose that child has been up to 
some sort of mischief.” 

‘‘ I’m sure I have never seen her do a thing 

247 


248 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


out of the way ; not intentionally remarked 
Miss Emily, with as much force as she ever 
dared use against her eldest sister’s opinions. 

‘‘ A young person like yourself can scarcely 
judge of what constitutes mischief, dear said 
Sophie sweetly. The poor little younger sister 
had already turned forty, but after the flight of 
Jean’s mother she had been considered the 
“ baby ” of the flock, and this delicate reference 
to her years quite mollified any resentment she 
might have felt against the open reproof. 

‘‘There, I do hope it is nothing serious! If 
it is I shall certainly faint!” ventured Miss 
Sophie, as she stepped to the curbstone, and 
glanced curiously, yet politely, toward the 
vehicles grouped there. 

“ You will certainly do nothing of the kind !” 
returned Miss Montgomery, promptly. “You 
will have the good taste to reserve all your 
faints for the privacy of your own household.” 

And thus admonished Miss Sophie followed 
her sisters indoors. 

“ Dodson — what is this ?” 

“ Dear me, Miss Montgomery, I couldn’t 
help it, I could not ! Being that I was going 
above stairs to speak to the carpenter about 


WHISKER IN A BOARDING-HOUSE 249 

making as little noise as possible ; when all of 
a sudden into the new elevator dashed those two 
children, and down to the bottom rushed as if 
they had been shot out of a catapult! Like 
they do at the circus, ma’am. They did, 
indeed I” 

The — elevator I The children I What — 

children ?” 

‘‘Miss Jean, ma’am, and another. I don’t 
know who nor what, being as I never laid 
eyes on her before I helped lift her out of the 
elevator, which same is broke all to pieces, 
ma’am, and not my fault, at all, as I was 
saying, I—” 

Miss Montgomery raised her hand to com- 
mand silence. “ Where are the injured per- 
sons ?” 

“ In the dining-room, ma’am, being as it was 
the near — ” 

Then did Miss Montgomery prove Madame 
D’Albemarle’s words true. Her nerves might 
shudder but they were not permitted to show 
their weakness through her actions, and she 
descended rapidly and quietly to the lower floor, 
appearing before the physicians at work there 
like a spirit of peace and composure. 


250 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


It was a sorry sight that met her eyes. On 
the table lay pretty Lady Barefoot, ban- 
daged all about her head and shoulders where 
the flesh had been bruised or torn ; and on the 
table — for lack of better place — was poor An- 
gel ia Parthenia, whose devotion to friendship 
had resulted most disastrously for herself. Her 
broken arm had been thrown out of setting, 
and her ankle was injured severely ; while the 
surgeon was at that moment examining her 
ribs, fearing to And fresh fractures among 
them. 

What can I do. Doctor ? ’’ asked Miss Mont- 
gomery. 

‘‘Just hold this bandage tight, while I put 
on a fresh piece of plaster; and your other 
hand here, please. On the side. So.’’ 

Poor little “ bound-out” servant from the 
poor-house ! The slender, delicate Angers of the 
most high-bred woman in Palatial Avenue did 
not shrink once from contract with the baser 
flesh which writhed in pain beneath even their 
daintiness ; nor could even the worldly-wise 
Madame D’Albemarle have believed her own 
eyes had she witnessed the tenderness with 
which Angelia was treated. For the visitor’s 


WHISKER IN A BOARDING-HOUSE 251 

hurts had been far worse than Jean’s own, 
which were mostly flesh wounds ; and the won- 
der in the minds of all the doctors present, and 
whom the frightened servants had summoned 
from any house which bore a physician’s sign, 
was that she, at least, had not been killed out- 
right. 

Ting-a-ling-a-ling !” The peal on the bell 
was sharp and imperative. 

Dodson obeyed it with his heart in his mouth. 
What new disaster was this ? 

There stood the same little lady, clad all in 
velvets and furs, whom his mistresses had de- 
clined to see, only a few days before. Is 
there a young lady in this house named Todd — 
D’Albemarle ? A visitor ?” 

There’s a young lady here, ma’am. But, 
please give me a card ; I will take it to the 
ladies.” 

Tush ! This is no time for cards ! What 
does all this closing of blinds and spreading of 
straw mean ? Is my adopted daughter here ? Is 
anybody hurt?” 

A moment, ma’am. The straw is on ac- 
count of Miss Sophie, ma’am. She is that 
delicate in her nerves that she thought it the 


252 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


proper thing to do. She has been having a 
great many ^ spells ’ since the accident — ’’ 

“ There has been an accident, then ? I feared 
as much and without further parley, away 
marched the little woman and ascended the 
broad stairs before Dodson’s very eyes, deter- 
mined to find out for herself what had become 
of the child she had so lately but so wholly 
taken into her lonely heart. 

‘‘ Oh, Madame !” cried a voice from an in- 
ner room ; and recognizing it instantly, the lady 
pushed her way forward till she bent above the 
couch where lay her precious protege. ‘‘ How 
did you know about it ?” 

‘‘Why, I was sent for, of course, as was 
proper and right. And thanks to the Misses 
Montgomery for the attention. But the message 
bore no hint of this ! It merely asked me to 
call. What have you done to yourself, dear ?” 

A lady emerged from the semi-darkness 
behind the lounge where Angelia Parthenia 
lay and addressed the new-comer. “ Madame 
D’ Albemarle, I suppose. I am Miss Mont- 
gomery. I did not specify the trouble ; it some 
times is too severe a shock. But the doctors say 
it is nothing very serious. Your charge will be 


WHISKER IN A BOARDING-HOUSE 253 

all riglit again after a wliile.’^ Thereupon she 
gave a brief but clear description of the accident 
as she had learned it from the lips of others ; 
and a half-hour thereafter Madame D’Albemarle 
drove away, with Angelia lying on a stretcher in 
her own roomy carriage, and determined that to 
the house in Palatial Avenue neither herself 
nor hers should go again — if she could help it. 
‘‘ There’s a spell upon the place, my dear. It’s 
an unlucky house for us !” And poor Angelia 
was far too ill to contest the point. 

Bad as the injuries to both girls were, they 
were not so serious but that they mended soon ; 
and though the Parisian trip was somewhat 
postponed, by Christmas time Madame and her 
charge were on the ocean and Jean was under 
a governess’ care, trying with all her might to 
repair her neglected education. 

On Christmas afternoon she sat by the 
window looking out wistfully. Her lap was full 
of gifts which her aunts had thought best to 
bestow upon her, yet with little pretence of an 
affection none of them seemed to feel, except, 
perhaps Aunt Emily, who, “ being so young and 
silly, probably did not know any better.” 

The elder aunts were taking charge of Christ- 


254 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


mas trees for ])oor children, and Jean turned a 
little wistfully toward Miss Emily, who entered 
at that moment. “ I wish. Aunt — do you dare 
tell me where Whisker is ?’’ 

Miss Emily looked around cautiously. ‘‘ I 
know where he is. I do not know as I ought 
to tell you, but I was not forbidden to show 
you.’’ 

Oh, you dear ! will you ? I am so unhappy 
without him. I miss him more than I can tell 
you. It is all so stiff and dismal here. If I 
laugh Aunt Montgomery says, ‘Not so loud, 
Jean,’ and if I dance Aunt Sophie says it makes 
her head ache. There are no birds, no squirrels, 
no woodchucks, no toads even. I am very 
lonely.” 

“ Woodchucks ! toads ! Surely you cannot 
lament the companionship of such creatures as 
that?” 

“ But I do. I would give anything to have a 
good chase after a chipmunk this minute. And 
oh. Aunt Emily ! The other day when I was 
out riding I saw a place, a store, where there are 
lots of animals. It isn’t far from here. Do you 
suppose it would be very wicked if you and I 
should walk down there and look at them ?” 


WHISKER m A BOARDING-HOUSE 255 

‘‘ I — doii^t — know/’ responded the gentle 
Emily, with reckless eagerness shining in her 
faded eyes. 

Let’s ! Come on ! There cannot anything 
happen to us if you are with me ! It will be 
such fun ! You don’t have very much fun, 
either, do you, dear ?” 

N — 0. I — don’t know. Are you sure it 
isn’t far ? Could we get back before sisters 
do?” 

Long before ! Do come, please.” 

They went, — the trembling spinster feeling 
as if she were outraging all the proprieties of 
Palatial Avenue, yet rather exulting in the 
hardihood of doing so, and Jean, unable to keep 
her dancing feet subdued to the prim little pace 
her aunt continually reminded her was the 
“ ladylike ” manner of walking. And when 
they reached the animal fancier’s there was a 
real Christmas delight awaiting Lady Barefoot, 
for there sat Whisker, perched high above the 
door, chattering away for dear life, and attract- 
ing the lion’s share of attention and praise from 
all visitors to the little shop. 

Whisker ! Whisker, my darling !” 

Down sprang the little fellow and began to 


256 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


nibble Jean^s lately healed cheek with happy 
fondness and never hurting one bit, though 
Miss Emily besought her with pitiful entreaty 
to make him stop.” 

“ I should like to know, miss, how you can 
train such things so well. You ought to be in 
the business,” said the dealer, who boarded ” 
Whisker, to the squirrehs mistress. 

I was once,” replied Jean, archly, and for- 
getting the proprieties ” completely, though 
she had been learning many things of late con- 
cerning them. 

‘‘So? Then all I have to say is that if ever 
you wish to return to it you may count upon 
me for a partner.” 

“ Do you mean it?” asked Jean, mischievously, 
little thinking how much was to hinge upon the 
answer. 

“ Of course I mean it ! If I had such a body 
as you up in the country somewhere, I should 
never have my stock fail or be furnished with 
poor creatures frightened out of all intelligence 
in the catching of them. Here’s a chance ! 
Here is a squirrel I bought two weeks ago, 
and he is almost grieving his heart out and 
slowly starving to death. Speak to him, miss. 


WHISKER IN A BOARDING-HOUSE 257 

and cheer him up, like you have been doing that 
cage full there yonder/’ 

Instantly Jean walked over to the corner 
where the woodland captive lay curled up in a 
ball, taking no notice of anything or anybody, 
and by the magic of her craft, which she de- 
clared was nothing but love, she made the sad 
little animal not only lift its dejected head, but 
take a nut-meat from her fingers and nibble it 
eagerly. Before she left this delightful place, 
the very pleasantest she had yet seen in all the 
great city, she had introduced Whisker to his 
race-fellow, and left the poor chipmunk a 
changed creature for her short visit to him. 

‘‘ Well, it’s something to make one heart 
happy on Christmas Day, if even only a 
squirrel-heart !” said the kind dealer, cordially. 

And I’m much obliged to you, miss, for your 
trouble. If ever you want to take up business 
again, remember, I’m your man.” 

‘‘ All right, sir ; I’ll remember !” answered 
Jean gayly, and followed her Aunt Emily out 
of the shop. 


17 


CHAPTEE XXII 


THE SHADOW OF A DISGRACE 

Miss Harrison, please send Jean to me in 
my private sitting-room/’ 

Miss Montgomery’s tone, saying this, was 
stern in the extreme, and Miss Montgomery’s 
expression would have added a chill to ice. 
The governess who had received the request, 
which was of course also a command, wondered 
what could have happened, and pitied her 
dear little pupil as she delivered the commis- 
sion. 

Your aunt wishes to speak with you, Jean, 
darling. I would be as prompt in obedience as 
possible.” 

‘‘Yes, ma’am,” answered Jean, rising in- 
stantly, but wondering somewhat at the advice. 
Was she not always prompt in obedience? Had 
not all her days, since the holidays were over, 
258 


THE SHADOW OF A DISGRACE 


259 


some four months before, passed with rigid reg- 
ularity and loneliness ? 

Has anything happened, Miss Harrison ? 
Only this morning I was wishing something 
would, I am so — so tired of being shut up and 
studying all the time/’ 

‘‘ Well, you have made good use of your ‘ im- 
prisonment,’ dear. I am very proud of my 
bright pupil, and I do not think it can be any- 
thing about lessons need worry you. Miss 
Montgomery herself has expressed great pleasure 
at your quickness, and only the last composition 
I showed her she said : ^ Remarkable ! I really 
think it is remarkable, don’t you. Miss Harri- 
son ?’ And I assured her that I did. So just 
smooth your curls a little and run along. May- 
be she is going to give you a holiday !” 

But though the kind governess said this cheer- 
fully she had been disturbed b}^ Miss Montgom- 
ery’s manner more than she would have cared 
to have her pupil know. 

Dear Aunt, here I am. I understood you 
wished to see me;” said Jean, entering the 
room to which she had been summoned, and 
hesitating a second at sight of a strange gentle- 
man conversing with her relative. 


260 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Miss Montgomery turned toward her niece, 
and now her face was not only stern but deathly 
pale as well. Instantly Jean divined that she 
was in disgrace, but in vain did her thoughts 
travel backward over all the past weeks. Since 
the escapade of the elevator, for which she had 
not been scolded, she did not remember to have 
done anything v*ery greatly out of the prescribed 
order. 

Oh, yes ! I remember ! Aunt Emily said 
she did not think you liked to have me go to 
see Whisker so often ! Is it that. Aunt 2 ” 

Hush ! Whisker ! If it were only Whisker !” 
Then the lady turned toward the stranger. 

This is the girl, sir.” 

Immediately the gentleman rose, approached 
and handed Jean a paper, which she took won- 
deringly. ‘‘ I summon you. Miss Wilder, as a 
witness on a trial to be held at Chelsea town- 
ship for the purpose of discovering the mur- 
derer of the late Doctor Disney, of that place. 
The trial is set down for one week from this 
day.” 

Had a thunderbolt fallen at Lady Bare- 
foot^s feet she could not have been more startled. 
During the months of her life at her aunts' 



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THE SHADOW OF A DISGEACE 


261 


house she had almost forgotten the terrible 
events which had taken place just before her 
leaving Chelsea ; or rather she remembered 
them as a horrible nightmare from which she 
had awakened to a tranquil monotony. 

Doc — tor Dis — ney ! Oh ! I had for — got — 
ten him ! ’’ 

That may have been more comfortable for 
you ; but it is necessary that I should remind 
you of his death, now. The court will expect 
your presence. I am engaged upon the case. 
I will send a suitable escort for you at the right 
time ; and I would suggest Madame, that it 
would be well for you or some friend of Miss 
AVilder to accompany her.” 

But what can I tell that I have not already 
told ? Why should I have to go back to Chel- 
sea ? I am afraid of the place ! The dreadful 
man — the horrible Peterkin Rideout — Oh ! I 
don’t want to go back — I do not, I do not !” 

‘‘ I have to advise you, miss, to say nothing 
in my hearing which you will not wish to re- 
peat at the trial said the gentleman, rising. 
“ I believe that my business is completed, and I 
will bid you good morning.” 

As in a dream Jean saw the stranger pass out 


262 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


of the room, heard the great front doors open 
and close for his exit, and realized that she was 
left alone in the presence of her aunt, who 
looked as if she could crush her to death in her 
anger. 

For the space of some minutes neither spoke ; 
then the silence grew so oppressive that the girl 
could bear it no longer. Oh ! why don’t 
you speak to me ! Why don’t you say some- 
thing to tell me he didn’t mean it ! I won’t go 
back — I cannot — I dare not !” 

Miss Montgomery rose, crossed the room, and 
locked the door. The action was significant to 
her niece of something even more terrible than 
what had already happened ; and she retreated 
to a corner and crouched there in an agony of 
fear. 

Jean, come here.” 

“ I — dare — not !” 

Of what are you afraid ?” 

You !” 

Why of — me ?” 

‘‘You — look as — as if — you would kill me 
if you could !” 

“ ‘ The guilty flee where no man pursueth.’ I 
would not harm a hair of your head. I would 


THE SHADOW OF A DISGRACE 


263 


not touch you, save of absolute necessity. Come 
here. There are some questions I must ask and 
you must answer at once.’’ 

The dreadful, monotonous voice compelled the 
girl’s obedience. Slowly as if she were in that 
nightmare she fancied, Jean left her corner and 
crept toward her motionless aunt. When she 
had come close to the lady’s chair, she sank 
down in a heap upon the soft carpet. 

Jean ! This is no time for folly. Sit up !” 

The girl rose and clasped her hands tensely. 

‘‘ Why did you come to this house with such 
a burden on your conscience, and keep silent ?” 

‘‘ I — I don’t know what you mean.” 

The truth. Speak it now, if ever. From 
what that person said I learned that you had 
not only been a witness of this other person’s 
death, but might have known more about it 
than you chose to tell. He did not say this, 
plainly, of course. He was guilty of nothing 
unprofessional. But — this is the first time in 
the history of our family that even a shadow of 
a shadow of scandal has fallen upon our name. 
Montgomery ! It has been a type of everything 
highest — purest — most honorable. Has it been 
left for you, a miserable child of a misguided 


264 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


woman to drag it in the dust? Tell me, in- 
stantly, completely, all — all — you know of this 
affair. You need fear nothing. I shall protect 
that name as long as it is possible. Tell me 
all, at once.” 

The lady’s tone had risen ever so slightly 
and on her cheeks two small red spots now 
burned like fire. But no fiercer was the flame 
of indignation within her own breast than that 
which thrilled her young relative. 

“ You shall hear all that I know, Aunt Mont- 
gomery. I too, have the same blood in my 
veins that you boast is so pure, and I would 
neither lie nor harm a human being any more 
quickly than you would ! I know nothing ; 
absolutely nothing, about Doctor Disney’s 
death. Though that wicked Peterkin Bideout 
told me that people — thought I — had — mur- 
dered him ! — I ! And he was my best, my 
dearest, only friend ! But for him we should 
have starved — I — he — ” 

‘‘ I have heretofore forbidden you to speak of 
the past. I little dreamed how much there was 
in it I should have known. Begin at the begin- 
ning. Tell me the first thing you remember. 
Do not omit anything which will throw light 


THE SHADOW OF A DISGRACE 


265 


upon that which I should learn. In this you 
need not fear. You have deceived me — cruelly 
— awfully. But I shall protect my family name 
at all costs. What do you first recall ?” 

A sweet-faced woman on a bed. She kissed 
me. Then an old man led me away. I think 
the old man was Grandfather Wilder.’’ Here 
Jean paused so long that Miss Montgomery 
reminded her : I am waiting.” 

‘‘ I don’t know what next, exactly. I have 
always lived in that old cabin with Grandfather. 
We had very little to eat. He had ‘ flesh,’ 
meat of some kind, ‘ to keep the life in his old 
veins,’ but I had porridge. I raised and trained 
birds and animals, and Doctor Disney bought 
them.” 

Go on.” 

There was no escaping in that relentless 
voice. 

Grandfather had something wrong with his 
heart, or his head. He used to take dark 
medicine. Sometimes he acted queer. He would 
dance a great deal. He talked about things I 
did not understand. One night — one day, I 
mean — I went to the village to sell a pair of 
woodpeckers and a squirrel. Some bad boys 


266 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


teased me. They always did, they called me 
‘Lady Barefoot,^ because I never had shoes, 
except in winter. Then one of them was hurt 
and I helped him. Then they teased me more, 
and I was hurt. The Doctor came and took me 
home. Grandfather was worse. He was ‘ out 
of his mind,’ the Doctor said. I was afraid, for 
Grandfather fell into the fire and was burned. 
Then the Doctor took off his own white shirt to 
bind the burns and he went away to the village 
to bring medicine and a nurse, he said. I never 
saw him afterward. I mean — ’’ 

“ Go on.’’ 

“I stayed alone with Grandfather,* and he 
was dead. In the morning a terrible man came 
and frightened me. I ran to the village and 
there I saw Doctor Disney dead ; murdered they 
said. There was a reward offered. The Hide- 
out boy, who worked for the Doctor, told me 
they suspected it was I killed my dear old 
friend and he would have the money — the 
reward. So I took Grandfather’s letter and ran 
away.” 

“ Did you come directly here ?” 

“No, ma’am. I met Angelia Parthenia ; she 
was running away, too. She was very kind ; 


THE SHADOW OF A DISGEACE 


267 


slie helped me go back and bury Grandfather. 
Then we saw the Rideout man coming and we 
ran again. Something stole our food, but we 
didn’t need it. The sweet old Madame helped 
us after that. Then I came here.” 

It was a simple, straightforward story. Miss 
Montgomery believed every word of it. But 
none the less did that make her conscious of the 
degradation of having their name mixed up in 
any such affair, no matter how innocently. She 
could see nothing but disgrace, look either way 
she would. At last she spoke. Go to your 
room, Jean ; do not exchange a single word with 
anybody in this house. Do not leave your 
room until I see you again. Go — at once.” 

Jean crept out of the apartment. Her heart 
now seemed like lead. Two words had burned 
themselves into her brain, to the exclusion of 
more comforting thoughts — the court.” 

I suppose that is a prison. Well, I will 
never go there ! Never ! I will die first !” 

But dying is not easy, and even terrible 
troubles lose something of their sharpness if one 
regards them fixedly, and by degrees a new idea 
entered the aching head of poor Lady Bare- 
foot. 


268 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


too, am Montgomery. I did nothing 
wrong. I know nothing wrong, and I will 
not be treated as if I were a bad girl. I 
will go away ; I will go straight hack to 
Chelsea, and to that old Squire Dutton who 
is so clever, and was kind to me. I will ask 
him to take care of me, and I will tell him 
over and over exactly all I know. Then I will 
find out who did murder the poor Doctor — if it 
takes me all my life to do it.’’ 

No sooner had she formed this resolution 
than a wonderful composure came to her. ‘‘ I 
will go this very day. I will go decently, too ; 
for I have a little money; my pocket-money, 
which kind Aunt Emily has never let me use, 
because she always likes to buy things for me. 
I will wear a plain dress and the storm-cloak, 
and a straw hat. But I will go. And when I 
see my aunts again they shall not dare to 
talk to me as if I were wicked or deceitful. I 
didn’t tell her because, partly, she doesn’t like to 
hear unpleasant things, and lately I did almost 
forget it. Oh, if I could only see dear Angelia 
once more ! But now I never shall. Never 
mind. I will live to find the Doctor’s murderer, 
and I will not think of any other thing.” 


THE SHADOW OF A DISGRACE 


269 


Life goes on in its usual order, no matter how 
much we suffer. Because Miss Montgomery 
felt that she had been bitterly humiliated this 
did not prevent her attending the Orphans’ 
Home ” meeting as ordinarily on a Thursday ; 
and it was Miss Sophie’s day at the Institu- 
tion for the Blind.” Even Miss Emily took 
herself out of the house on a visit to the “ slums,” 
and thus charitably engaged all three women 
forgot the poor little niece whose heart was 
breaking for a word of the sympathy they each 
so readily bestowed upon those who were of 
alien blood. 

But Jean did not think of this. She only 
rejoiced that circumstances so favored her in- 
tention. A half-hour before the usual time of 
Miss Montgomery’s return, a small figure, sim- 
ply clad, passed out of the front door of Num- 
ber 333 Palatial Avenue, and Dodson remarked 
with a smile : Going to see the naughty 

Whisker, dear Miss Jean ? Well, the air will 
do you good. It’s lonely living with three 
maiden ladies, for a young thing like you.” 

Thank you, Dodson. Yes. I am going to 
see Whisker. You can tell my aunts that, if 
they should ask about me, please.” 


270 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


All right, Miss. I’ll he sure to. But do 
not stay late. I heard the lady’s maid saying 
that there was a charity concert somewhere to- 
day, and Miss Sophie was intending to take 
you. I’m sure a little recreation will be good 
for you, it’s that pale you’re getting. Miss.” 

Jean did not reply. She merely smiled 
cheerfully and from the sidewalk turned to 
watch the great door, which had opened so re- 
luctantly to her coming, close firmly behind 
her. 

Now I have done it. I have cut myself off 
from everybody. The one thing Aunt Mont- 
gomery would never forgive is disobedience and 
I am alone in the world once more. I am 
going to find who killed the Doctor.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


SURPRISES 

On the second day after Jean left her aunts’ 
home, and set out alone to face not only the 
dangers of a great city but of the greater world, 
and under the shadow of a terrible suspicion. 
Squire Duttonen tered the room in the sheriff’s 
house where Peterkin John Rideout awaited 
his coming trial for the murder of his late mas- 
ter, Doctor Disney. 

A changed man was Peterkin, and about as 
pitiable and craven an object as it was possible to 
find. Any news. Squire ?” he asked, eagerly. 

‘‘No news. Rideout,” answered the old gen- 
tleman, eyeing the prisoner compassionately. 
“ But we shall have you clear. Unless some 
stronger proof is found against you.” 

“ There ain’t none ! There can’t be none. 
Squire ! I’m as innocent as a babe unborn !” 

271 


272 MY LADY BAREFOOT 

I believe you, lad. At least that you are 
innocent of the terrible crime alleged against 
you. It has not been pleasant, has it, to expe- 
rience in your own person the suffering you were 
so ready to inflict upon another ; and that other 
a delicate girl T’ 

“ Don’t be hard on a poor feller. Squire. 
Don’t remind me what a fool I was.” 

“ Well, the girl has been subpoenaed as a 
witness, and will be here to face you in open 
court in less than a week’s time. I hope the 
meeting will result in our finding out the truth. 
It has been a weary waiting to me, but my old 
friend shall be avenged yet.” 

‘^It have be’n along time, Jedge. It have 
be’n a terr’ble long time. An’ me a-locked up 
ag’in after I’d oncet be’n bailed out !” 

Well, Peterkin, my man, you should not 
have tried to ^ jump your bail ’ then. That is 
a rascally thing to do. It was the only way to 
have you where we wanted you, at the last, and 
as I said, I believe that you are really innocent 
of the terrible crime charged against you, and 
the circumstantial evidence is about the only 
proof. But that deepens, Bideout. I am sorry 
to say that it has not all been told yet.” 


SUKPRISES 


273 


‘‘Oh, clear! Oli, dear! Won’t I quit this 
town the minute I’m cleared ! But, say. Squire, 
did they find the girl ?” 

“ Why, you stupid ! I just told you so. 
Didn’t you hear ? I said you would have to 
face her at the trial.” 

“ Did ye ? I didn’t sense it. I don’t ’pear ter 
sense nothin’.” 

“ Poor wretch ! But we did not need to 
‘ find.’ I have known for several months exactly 
where she was. There was no need to disturb 
her peace till now. She is living with her rel- 
atives, who are among the wealthiest people in 
New York.” 

“ My land ! That Lady Barefoot ?” 

“ That Lady Barefoot, barefooted no longer. 
But I am very sorry that she has to be 
annoyed at all, or her people. Only, since 
she was the last person who saw Doctor 
Disney alive — who has yet confessed to seeing 
him — ” here the old Squire fixed his pierc- 
ing eyes full upon the trembling Peterkin’s 
face, “ of course her testimony has to be taken 
in the court. Peterkin, did you ever have a 
blue knitted jersey ?” 
s— sir?” 

18 


274 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


‘‘ Most wood-cutters wear a jersey, a ‘ Cardi- 
gan ’ jacket when at their work. I know that 
you did. Was it a blue one 
si— sir r 
Never mind.’' 

Peterkin groaned. His memory traveled back 
over the past and inventoried every garment 
he had ever possessed. Alas ! Among them 
were jerseys galore. Some black, some brown, 
and some, indeed, of blue. “ What — what — 
about it, if I had ?” 

The Squire sat down close to Peterkin. ‘‘ I 
have something to show you. I have obtained 
permission to do so. I do not believe that you 
are guilty of the murder, but I want you to 
know exactly where you stand. There was a 
piece of an old blue knitted jersey found in 
Doctor Disney’s hand. I wish you to tell me 
if you ever saw it before ?” 

The Squire held up before the startled Peter- 
kin’s eyes a scrap of ragged woolen cloth. It 
was so like hundreds of other jerseys in common 
use that he could not say it had or had not been 
torn from a garment of his own. He remem- 
bered, too, distinctly now a jacket that used 
to hang in the woodshed of the Doctor’s house. 


SURPRISES 275 

He wore it about his work in the stable. His 
‘ chores ’ he called it. 

Hid you ever see this before, Peterkin 
‘‘ Oh, oh ! I — I — I’ve seen sunthin’ like it, 
Jedge. I — I — boo-hoo !” 

Oh, you idiot ! I have no patience with 
you. I wish you would be a man for the space 
of ten minutes. Then I will depart and leave 
you to blubber alone. I declare, Pideout, if it 
were not for your parents’ sake I should think 
hanging would be a good thing for you. It 
would save the world any further exhibitions 
of cowardice, malice, and stupidity. At least 
from you. I’d like to see you stand up to your 
trouble like a man. Why can’t you ?” 

I dunno, Jedge. I dunno nothin’, only I 
shall die — I shall die — I can’t bear no more 
— I can’t — ” 

Bang went the outer door, and the Squire 
had departed in disgust. 

Well, well ! It is enough to make a man hate 
his kind! I do not believe that Peterkin Hideout 
is the murderer; but things look dark for him just 
now. And — I’ll walk up to the place. It always 
seems to bring my old friend nearer and to 
nerve me to courage on his behalf. For myself 


276 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


I wish the matter had never been stirred up. 
He is dead. No amount of legal conviction will 
ever put the breath back into his body, though 
it may check that of the guilty pjerson. What 
an idea that would be ! If the murderer could 
be made to restore his victim^s life at the cost of 
his own ! But even science, mighty though it 
is, can never accomplish that justice ! Mean- 
while—^^ 

The few months which had elapsed since 
the death of his friend, the Doctor, had aged 
tlie smart old Squire very greatly. He had 
chafed at the law’s delay, yet now as the time of 
trial approached, he felt that little would be 
proved. He had fallen into a habit of wander- 
ing about the spot where Doctor Disney had 
been found, as if by searching and researching 
he could come upon a clue which would amount 
to something ; and he had now absently ap- 
proached the ravine when he heard his name 
called anxiously from the opposite side. Startled 
he raised his eyes, and there stood Lady 
Barefoot. 

Oh ! Squire Dutton ! Squire Dutton ! Wait 
a moment! Wait till I can cross over to you I 
Please wait !” 


SURPRISES 


277 


Tliere was no need for her to urge the 
matter. Changed as she was in regard to her 
attire, even the old man’s sight recognized at 
once the sunny hair and lovely face of the 
‘‘ squirrel-girl,” about whose treatment he had 
had many remorseful thoughts. I ought to 
have paid more attention to her, and not let her 
be frightened away as she was ! But she has come 
back and I’ll make it up to her !” he considered, 
as he watched her rapid and graceful descent of 
the opposite bank and her swift climb upwards 
to his side. He held out both hands and after 
a moment’s pause of astonishment she grasped 
them eagerly. 

Oh ! I am so glad to see you ! I am so 
glad to get home again !” 

Glad to see — me ! Who neglected you so 
shamefully? Do you call that — home? An 
empty old rookery ! That you are ‘ glad to be 
back again’ ?” Even as he questioned her thus 
the old man’s heart was beating warmly and a 
real pleasure stirred in his lonely heart. How 
he could have loved a child like this, if such 
had been vouchsafed him ! 

But it is ' home ’ all the same, though it is 
poor and empty. The same sweet music in the 


278 


MY LADY BAIIEFOOT 


brook, the same sweet scents in the air, the same 
happy sounds in the tree-tops ! I will never go 
away again. It is spring, now, and I shall not 
suffer from cold and things will grow that I can 
eat. I wish — are you too tired to come across 
to my poor little house and sit down with me ? 
I have come all the way back to see you. Come 
all alone — and a runaway ! I seem to be always 
running away, do I not? Though, I forgot, 
you donh know anything about that. Will you 
come ?’’ 

Of course, Idl come, you bright little crea- 
ture, if you will only give me time. There^s a 
deal of difference between sixty and sixteen in 
the matter of limberness, let me tell you. Miss 
Blue Eyes ! I’ll come — but not ‘ in the twin- 
kling of an eye.’ ” 

‘‘ Oh ! I am not in such a hurry as that. I 
only got here yesterday, and I have been as busy 
as busy ever since. I was pretty tired and I slept 
so long and so late I am ashamed. But, never 
mind. There is nobody to be vexed with me 
here.” 

How is that? You are not alone?” 

‘‘But I am, quite alone! Didn’t I tell you? 
I have run away.” 


SURPRISES 


279 


From whom 

‘‘From my Aunts Montgomery/’ 

The Squire’s countenance became instantly 
very grave. He looked sharply into the bright 
eyes he had admired, and almost dropped the 
little hand which had confidingly taken his to 
help him over the rough path. “That is a 
bad business. A very bad business, indeed !” 

Jean continued to smile. “ I hope not, sir ; 
I think not. For I could not possibly be so 
happy if I were doing wrong. I have written 
them a letter, and I was going to take it to your 
house and get you to see if it were spelled cor- 
rectly and all that. My oldest Aunt Mont- 
gomery is very particular, and I have been 
learning only such a little while ; only since I 
have been away from here.” 

“ Humph ! I reckon she will not heed the 
spelling if she only hears. Why, child, it is a 
dreadful thing you have done. They must be 
heart-broken over your flight. I used to know 
your aunts when I was young, my dear.” 

“ Did you ? Then you must know that their 
hearts are not the sort which break over their 
own folks. They are very, very good to real 
poor and wicked people, but just their own kind 


280 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


don’t trouble them. They were angry with me, 
that is, my oldest aunt was. The others did not 
know.” 

“There, there. I am comfortable. Don’t 
fuss any more. Sit down on the doorstep and 
tell me the whole business.” 

“ Like I used to tell Grandfather ? I would 
always begin like this : ‘ I went from here ’ — and 
then go on and tell him every single thing. 
Shall I?” 

Commonly the Squire hated a long story, but 
a long story from such smiling lips as those 
that put the question would, he now fancied, 
seem a very refreshing contrast to the dull and 
discouraging legal prosings to which he had 
been compelled to listen of late. 

“ Fire ahead, child. Begin : ^ I went from 
here.’ ” 

Jean laughed, a brighter, merrier laugh than 
had ever escaped her during her life in Palatial 
Avenue. “Well, then, about the first running 
away.” And from this simple prelude she gave 
in eager, graphic, excited words a condensed 
history of all that has been recorded here. Her 
listener did not tire ; indeed he scarcely moved, 
so wrapt was he in the tale whose truthfulness 


SURPRISES 


281 


and pitifulness impressed upon his kindly 
heart with a power of which the narrator never 
dreamed. 

“You two buried him. You two girls alone, at 
the dead of night 

“Yes,’’ said Jean, simply. “I hope it was 
done right. It was the best we could. Come, 
and I will show you where. I went there the 
first thing I did after I came, and it looked so 
peaceful and quiet. Angel ia was very wise. 
Before we put the sods down she wrote on a leaf 
with a thorn something out of a book she loved : 
‘ After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well.’ I 
thought it would have pleased Grandfather, 
because he loved Shakespeare, too.” 

In the midst of her chatter, happy and inno- 
cent as it was. Lady Barefoot was startled by 
hearing a sob. Looking up, there was the old 
Squire trying to hide the tears which would 
trickle down his wrinkled cheeks in spite of his 
desire that they should not. 

“ Why — what is the matter ? Are you 
ill ?” 

“ 111 of conscience only, dear. It — let us go 
back. I am an old man, too. I wonder, if my 
wife were dead, if there would be anybody to 


282 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


do for me what you did for this man who ill- 
treated you 

‘‘ Oh, yes, certainly. I would do it, if there 
were nobody had a better right !’^ replied Jean, 
cheerfully. 

Oh, you would, would you ? Well, well ; 
I’m not going to give you a chance ! Not yet a 
while. Let’s go back to the house. The subject 
is getting personal.” The funny old gentleman 
was laughing again and Jean smilingly turned 
about toward the cottage. 

“ Grandfather did not mean to be unkind, I 
think, sir. He was only very poor.” 

Humph ! Go on with your story. Why 
have you come back ?” 

I have come to find out who did kill the 
Doctor. I did not, and I do not want anybody 
else who did not to be made as unhappy as that 
Rideout man made me. I am going to find out 
if it takes all my life long. And I think I shall 
do so all the sooner in this very house. It is my 
own, you know. Isn’t it ?” 

‘‘ Nobody will dispute your possession of it. 
Do you know the people think the place is 
haunted ?” 

How funny !” 


SUKPRISES 


283 

Aren’t you afraid ? Of course there is no 
such thing as a haunted house, but it might 
make you nervous to hear about it.” 

Aunt Sophie said I had no nerves, sir. I 
suppose she knew.” 

“ Humph ! I suppose she did. But who will 
live with you ?” 

Whisker.” 

‘‘Whisker! who is he? Some masculine, I 
take it, from the name.” 

Jean whistled softly ; and out of the gloom 
of the rafters came a flash of graceful life, and 
down upon the Squire’s lap landed the most 
mischievous squirrel that ever leaped among the 
tree-tops. 

“ Great Scott ! Ouch !” cried the Squire, ac- 
knowledging the introduction. 


CHAPTEE XXIV 


jean’s discoveey 

‘‘ This is absurd, and dangerous said the 
Squire, after Jean had called away her little, be- 
loved companion. You must have some hu- 
man being — though I do not know who would 
consent to live in such a hole.” 

‘‘Nor I,” answered Lady Barefoot, not at 
all offended. “ I love it because it is home to 
me — my own place where nobody can disturb 
or molest me. I shall be very, very busy. I 
found a man in New York, where Whisker 
boarded because my aunts did not like him, and 
he says that he will take all the birds and ani- 
mals I will send him. He supplies the zoologi- 
cal gardens in some of the cities with such crea- 
tures and he sells a great many to private 
customers. He is going to send me up a load 
of little cages of the right sort, so I will not 


jean’s discovery 


285 


have to make them any more ; and I think I 
shall do very nicely, indeed, sir. Now, do you 
mind reading the letter ?” 

‘‘I do not mind anything. And if I did it 
would make no difference to you, I fancy. 
Such a smart little business woman as you 
have grown to be !” Then the Squire did 
read the letter and was touched by its contents, 
which revealed more than the writer had sup- 
posed about her relations to her aunts. 

‘‘ Is it all right, sir ?” 

Perfectly. It explains everything — every- 
thing — very clearly. But, after living in 
luxury, as you have done, do you intend to 
return to your old habits and sleep upon 
nothing at all? Eat nothing at all? Wear 
nothing but rags ? Though I see you are 
well clothed now ; and I will take that last 
question back.” 

I mean to have everything as comfortable 
as I can as soon as I can. But things do not 
trouble me — outside things, I mean — I want to 
find out about this mystery, and then I shall 
not care for anything in the world.” 

My child, I do not like to discourage you ; 
but do you for one moment seriously imagine 


286 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


that you can, unaided, accomplish what the 
wisest lawyers have failed to learn ?” 

“ I think I have a motive no lawyer could 
have. I think I will succeed.’’ 

How ?” 

“ I do not know.” 

I thought as much !” 

All the same I shall. I feel as sure of it 
as that I see the dear old rocks and brooks 
again for which I used to long. I am not at 
all afraid. I do not believe God will let the 
innocent suffer for the guilty and I ! — oh ! I 
shall find out, somehow.” 

“ You have not asked about your old acquaint- 
ance, Peterkin John Rideout.” 

Must I ask about him ?” Jean shuddered. 

I must tell you about him. He not only 
accused you, privately, to your face of com- 
plicity in this dreadful crime, but he insinuated 
the same thing in public. I fear it would have 
produced some terrible impression against you, 
had matters not taken just the turn they did. 
Besides, three days after you had fiown I knew 
where you were, and I pledged my word to pro- 
duce you whenever necessary.” 

You — did — Squire — Dutton ?” 


jean’s discovery 


287 


I, Squire Dutton, did. Do you think that a 
midget like you could be lost ?” 

Jean was silent. 

‘‘ Now about Peterkin. A hatchet belonging 
to him was found near the Doctor’s body.” 

Oh, oh ! But I am sure he did not do the 
dreadful deed. He could not. Nobody could 
raise a hand against that dear old man, who had 
once been befriended by him.” 

‘‘ It’s a wicked world, my dear. The worst 
thing about it is its ingratitude. Shall I 
go on ?” 

Yes, please.” 

“ A piece of a blue, knitted jersey, presumably 
once belonging to Peterkin John, was found in 
the dead man’s fingers.” 

Oh, how dreadful !” 

The result was that Peterkin John found 
his own unholy wishes return to rest upon 
himself. The authorities arrested him for 
the murder, or for complicity in the murder 
of Doctor Disney, and he now awaits his 
trial.” 

Poor fellow ! I do not believe for one mo- 
ment that he did it.” 

Nor I, really, though I have doubts some- 


288 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


times. The circumstantial evidence is very 
strong.^^ 

“ The man who came to the cabin on the morn- 
ing after Grandfather died had on a blue knitted 
jersey. He stole the key and I ran away. He 
was dark and evil-looking. I believe he was the 
man. If he only could be found. And yet — 

And yet — what 

I should hate to point him out. I should 
never be happy again if I sent anybody to 
prison.’’ 

Well, well. It is a sorry, sorry business at 
the best. But now, my poor child, do not for 
one moment think of staying here alone. Do 
come to my house and be my little daughter. I 
will then write your Aunts Montgomery a dif- 
ferent letter and one that will relieve any 
anxiety they may possibly feel.” 

‘‘ They will feel none, except Aunt Emily. I 
am going to ask her to come and visit me some 
day, when I have earned enough to buy a 
bed and two chairs and — a few other things. It 
will not take me very long if I am fortupate in 
my work. I have already found where some 
squirrels are building a nest, and I shall do very 
well. Then I can make baskets of pretty barks 


JEAN^S DISCOVERY 


289 


and things — such as the Doctor used to buy — 
and the dealer will take them of me. He has 
customers that like country things, he says.’’ 

Well, well. We will not wait for that, my 
dear. I will invite Miss Emily to come and 
visit with you at my house. How will that 
do ?” 

‘‘ Thank you ; hy-and-by, perhaps. But I 
have made up my mind to one thing. Aunt 
Sophie says I am a ‘ too decided girl,’ so I think 
I will keep my resolution. I do not mean to 
sleep under anybody’s roof, except this that 
was my Grandfather’s, until I find out who mur- 
dered Doctor Disney, and so have cleared my 
own name — the ‘ proud name of Montgomery ’ 
Wilder.” 

Child, child ! Take care ! Do not make 
rash vows ! Do not make vows at all. They 
are difficult to keep. Ah, yes, difficult to keep.” 

Then I will make no more. This is already 
made — and I shall keep it.” 

A little later the Squire wended his way 
homeward. Jean accompanied him as far as 
the outskirts of the village, where she parted 
from him gayly and turned mountainward again, 
apparently as happy to be back in that solitary 
19 


290 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


desolate liut she called “ home/’ as a richer girl 
would have been in a mansion. 

She was conscious of a strange elation of 
spirit. It made every thing seem rose-colored 
by the magic of the light it cast upon it. The 
bare floor became as pretty in Lady Bare- 
foot’s eyes as was her aunts’ axminster 
carpet; the couch of pine boughs which she 
had spread the night before seemed soft and 
restful, and the plain dinner of bread and 
cheese which she had purchased at the Landing, 
a feast fit for a queen. 

I mean to hoard my money as closely as I 
can ; for it will be some time before I can get 
any back from the dealer, even if my things 
please him. And now, I had almost finished 
that broom of pine branches I was making out 
here in the sunshine, so I will end that first, 
then go in and carefully sweep the floor. Dear 
me! It does seem as if I should see Grand- 
father come to the door and call : ^Jean ! Jean I 
Come, cook my supper !’ Wouldn’t I do it 
gladly, gladly!” 

Meanwhile the Squire hurried homeward and 
ordered a wagon load of necessaries packed for 
transportation to the cottage. He chided him- 


jean’s discoveky 


291 


self all tlie while lie was thus engaged, for an 
old idiot that has been talked out of his com- 
mon sense by a silvery tongue and dazzled by a 
vision of innocence with her yellow hair and 
big, blue eyes !” 

But good Mrs. Dutton did not join in the 
railing. She only nodded her gray curls and 
smiled encouragingly. “ It’s well for a man 
to be that sort of idiot as often as may be, 
husband ! Think of the brave little creature 
and what she did for her dead grandfather ! A 
crabbed old soul, by what I hear, too. And to 
think of her coming back to live alone in such 
a lonely place and not a bit afraid ! No wonder 
about that, though. Sure the good Lord watches 
over all such pure souls as hers ! And I pray 
with all my heart He will give her her desire, 
and soon. Shall you leave her there alone, 
to-night ?” 

‘‘Indeed, I shall not; nor any night, as 
long as she persists in her nonsense of staying 
there. I shall hire some good man to patrol 
the locality and protect her. Though I will 
not let her know this, I think.” 

“And I think you would better. Suppose she 
should go to the door of a night-time and see a 


292 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


man walking about, whom she did not know 
was there. I think it would scare her into a 

‘‘Maybe so, maybe so. I guess you are 
right. We’ll follow the load of stuff in the 
phaeton, if you like, and show her there is one 
woman in the world ready to love and care for 
her; even if that woman’s name isn’t Mont- 
gomery !” 

“Don’t be hard on the poor, proud, silly 
aunts, husband. I always feel sorry for a 
woman who hasn’t a good man in her family, to 
teach her wisdom.” 

“Doubtless they feel sorry for themselves, 
wife ! I’ve always heard so !” And chuckling 
over his own witticism the kind old man went 
out to get the phaeton ready. 

“ The dear child has done him a world of 
good, already. He has brooded over the death 
of his old friend so long and so much that I am 
pleased enough to have something to divert him. 
And I will be kind to this Lady Barefoot as 
he wishes, even without his asking. She must 
be a brave, whole-souled young creature by all 
accounts.” 

People opened their eyes and stared as the 



( i 


I HAVE FOUND THE KEY !” 






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jean’s discovery 


293 


well-loaded wagon with its comfortable bed, its 
more than “two chairs,” its big hamper of 
provision, its basket of dainty crockery, its 
snowy sheets and soft blankets, set off toward 
the mountain, with the Squire’s phaeton and 
himself with “ Mrs. Squire who never goes 
anywhere once a dog’s age ” carefully tucked in 
beside him to follow after. 

“ What do you s’pose is going on !” cried one 
to another ; but nobody dared ask the village 
magnate a word about his j)rivate affairs, and so 
they were forced to await the return of the 
wagon before they could interview its driver 
and find out “ what it was ” which had roused 
their curiosity. 

Little dreaming of the generosity intended 
her, Jean began her sweeping, singing at her 
task one of the songs her grandfather had loved. 
“ It is awfully, awfully dirty. I should think 
all the dirt of the winter had blown right in 
at the door ; but no matter. If this broom 
wears out I can make another. If poor people 
haven’t much money they do have other things 
to work with !” 

At the fifth sweeping, when she had even 
gone down upon her knees, the more forcibly to 


294 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


push the dirt before her pine-needles, her eyes 
discovered something which startled them so 
that she dropped her broom and almost screamed 
aloud. 

Only her amazement was too great for 
screaming, and for the space of a full moment 
she sat there, gazing wildly at a small, rusty 
object standing upright in the floor. Then a 
chill, as of fear, stole over her, and rising, she 
fled from the cottage as swiftly as her feet could 
carry her. 

On the road she met the wagon of comforts 
intended for herself, but she gave it no second 
glance. Her eyes had passed beyond it to the 
phaeton and its occupants, and she bounded to 
their side, scarce touching the ground in her 
excitement. “ The key ! the key ! I have found 
the key 


CHAPTER XXV 


TO WHAT THE KEY LED 

You have found the key ! What key ?’’ de- 
manded the Squire, jumping from the jDhaeton 
and leaving Mrs. Dutton to manage the old 
sorrel for herself. 

The key which Grandfather gave me — that 
the black-eyed man stole from my hand — that 
shows where Grandfather’s ^ treasure ’ is — if he 
had any, as he claimed !” 

^MYell, well, well!” cried the old gentle- 
man, and could find nothing better to say. 

Well, well ! Where did you find it?” 

Sweeping the floor ! Please come quick ! I 
will show it to you. It will tell us many things 
I believe I Oh, come — come quickly 1” 

See here, little Impatience, wait a minute ! 
It is not likely that this key you say you have 
found will reveal anything of importance, and, 

295 


296 


MY LADY BAKLFOOT 


as I told you once before to-day, old limbs can- 
not equal young ones for speed. Besides, I 
have brought my wife with me and if there is 
anything marvelous to be seen the womankind 
always like to see it. Eh 

The Squire’s good-natured chaffing fell like 
ice on Jean’s excited spirit. But she saw that 
she must conform herself to her old friend’s 
judgment, and at his bidding she went to the 
phaeton and spoke for a moment with the lady 
who had come to visit and befriend her. 

‘‘ Now, my dear,” said Mrs. Dutton, who had 
been watching Lady Barefoot’s face critically, 
and had seen the girl’s attempts to curb her 
impatience, now let us tie the horses here and 
all go together as quickly as may be to find out 
the mystery of this key.” 

Oh, thank you, thank you, madam ! Let me 
help you ! I can hold the horse, if I don’t know 
much about tying one.” 

‘‘Here, Job, tie the other horse to this tree. 
We will leave the stuff in the wagon for a bit, 
and this is as far as it is safe to drive. Then 
come along with us ; we will all go together. 
The more witnesses the better, if there is any- 
thing new to be discovered.” 


TO WHAT THE KEY LED 


297 


“ Oh, sir, you are all excited, too, are you 
not? even though you talk so quietly. I am 
in such a flutter I can hardly wait — and yet — I 
am awfully — awfully afraid !” 

Why should you be afraid ?” 

I do not know. I only know I am.” 

Where did you find the key ?” 

Standing upright in the floor, in a corner 
where Grandfather would always have a pile of 
branches kept. He had them to replenish the 
beds and fire, he said, but he never allowed me 
to touch them. I never did touch them till the 
night he died, when I used some of them to feed 
the fire because — because — I did not like to go 
out after more.” 

Hm-m ! Did you ever see this key before 
that last night ?” 

No, sir.” 

Did you ever hear anything about any 
treasure until then ?” 

Sometimes — when Grandfather was talking 
in that queer way, which my Aunt Emily said 
must have been insanity, he would speak of it. 
He always fancied somebody wanted to rob him. 
He once said I would love him better and ap- 
preciate him more after he was dead than while 


298 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


he lived. He said I would then know how he 
had loved me.’’ 

‘‘ Did he ever talk of money ?” 

‘‘Oh! yes, often. He said it was the great- 
est good in the world. The only good, he said 
sometimes. But I do not think he had any 
money. Take care, please, madam. The path 
is very rough. I mean to smooth it sometime, 
since people are so kind as to come and see me. 
We never used to have any visitors, except the 
Avoodmen, and they did not mind a rough path. 
Grandfather never went away. I do not remem- 
ber to have ever seen him across this ravine.” 

“ I do not much wonder, if he was feeble I” 
panted Mrs. Dutton climbing slowly up the 
bank toward the ‘ miser’s ’ cottage, and regarding 
that poor abode with utmost curiosity. “ It is 
a hard pull for anybody. If I were to visit you 
often I should propose that a bridge be thrown 
across the gully, which would save a deal 
of wasted breath.” 

“ It would be nice, I suppose. But — we are 
almost there now. If you are tired, sit down 
on this stone for a moment ; then we can go on.” 
Jean thoughtfully paused beside the great 
bowlder, as she spoke, but the impatient tap- 


TO AVHAT THE KEY LED 


299 


ping of her foot told that she was laying a real 
restraint upon herself 

Go on, my dear, you and the Squire. I 
will follow directly, ” said Mrs. Dutton, consid- 
erately. 

No, no. I would rather we all went to- 
gether. I am as silly as this child here, but I 
^ feel as if something were going to happen’ !” 
exclaimed the old gentleman, hastily ; and 
rather than delay the affair any longer Mrs. 
Dutton immediately rose and went with the 
others into the house. 

This way, please. See ? here it is !” 

Before a dark corner of the small abode Jean 
paused and pointed downward. The Squire 
put on his glasses, the hired man bent low, and 
Mrs. Dutton turned away her eyes. She was a 
nervous little woman, and the air seemed full of 
some dreadful mystery. 

Jean, have you a candle here?” 

‘‘ Yes, sir. I bought one at the Landing. I 
thought I might need it.” 

Light it, please.” 

But — the sun shines !” 

Light it.” 

When she brought the candle, lighted as he 


300 


MY LADY BAEEFOOT 


had bidden her, the Squire took it from her, and, 
stooping, examined all the floor immediately 
about the place where the rusty key stood up- 
right, in what looked but a rough hole in the 
wood. Hm-m ! It is as I thought. This is a 
trap door. The key is in the lock.’' 

‘‘ A trap door !” 

‘‘ Did you not know of it before ?” 

‘‘ I did not. But I thought of it as soon as I 
saw the key put in that way. I did not think 
anybody would bore a hole to put it in for fun 
— though it looks as if he had.” 

This is far more serious than ‘ fun.’ Job, 
have you a strong knife in your pocket ?” 

Yes, sir.” 

Then put its heaviest blade under the end 
of that board there, in the crack. I will use 
mine on this side — here. Jean, hold the can- 
dle ! — and we will pry on the door together. I 
have a hope we can raise it that way. If not 
we must get some iron bars.” 

Yow — both together !” cried Job. 

There was no need of the bars. The door 
yielded as easily as if its hinges were oiled, and 
with such readiness, indeed, that Job, who had 
made extra effort, tumbled backward upon the 


TO WHAT THE KEY LED 


301 


floor ; he had touched a steel spring in the 
fastening and this obeyed the correctly applied 
pressure. 

A cellar ! And as strong a flight of stone 
steps as if they led to a vault !” The Squire 
bent over the opening, but a draft of foul air 
drove him back. 

What’s the matter, boss ?” 

“ Try yourself. Job. I suppose it is the im- 
prisoned atmosphere.” 

Job’s stronger nostrils did not greatly shrink, 
and at a word from the Squire he held the 
lighted candle down the opening. It went out 
immediately. 

“ Go and bring the lamps from the phaeton. 
They are in order, I suppose?” said the old 
gentleman. 

‘‘ Yes. I trimmed them myself, husband, 
knowing how particular you are about them 
being ready for a dark night,” answered Mrs. 
Dutton promptly. 

‘‘ Let me go !” I can go quicker ! I am 
soused to the way !” cried Jean, and was off 
and back again almost before they knew it. 

The carriage lamps, tightly enclosed in glass 
proved to be just what was needed, and by their 


302 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


light the two men soon proceeded to descend and 
explore the vault. But they were not allowed 
to do this until careful Mrs. Dutton had been 
convinced, by the clear burning of the open 
flame of the candle at the foot of the stone steps, 
that the foulness of the air below had passed 
away. 

The Squire went first. Job following eagerly ; 
and for a moment Lady Barefoot poised at 
the top of the steps, uncertain whether to ex- 
plore the mystery for herself or await their 
disclosure. 

Jean ! Jean ! come here ! It will not hurt 
you ! But brace your nerves !” called the 
Squire’s voice, in a strange tone. ‘Mt is your 
right, since you have been so positive of — of 
the fact.” 

Jean did not wait to ask ‘‘what fact,” nor to 
consider the Squire’s odd sentence. She de- 
scended as swiftly as she did everything, and in 
a moment stood within the circle of the light 
which the lamps shed over the place. 

“Oh, sir? What is it?” 

“ It — is all that remains of a once living, 
human being. Did you ever see him be- 
fore ?” 


TO WHAT THE KEY LED 


303 


Jean could not have seen the imprisoned man’s 
face had she tried. His head had fallen forward 
on the folded arms, but the heavy black hair, 
the rough apparel — the blue knitted jersey — 
proclaimed the dead to be the same creature 
who had terrified her on the morning after her 
grandfather’s death and who had stolen the key 
from her hands. 

Oh ! it is he? I do know him ! I believe 
this was the unhappy wretch who murdered 
Doctor Disney ! 

‘‘ Wait ! There is a bit of writing — a paper 
near his hand!” cried Job, and before the 
Squire could remonstrate the servant had seized 
it and began to read it. 

‘‘May I go upstairs?” asked Jean, feebly; 
and turning hastily the Squire saw that she was 
on the poii;it of fainting. Old as he was he 
made light/ work of bearing that slender figure 
up into the better air and more cheerful light 
of the upper floor, and handed her over to the 
care of Mrs. Dutton. 

“ Come up. Job! I think we would better have 
more witnesses to this business. Drive back to 
the village as fast as you can ; and bring the 
coroner and some other men. Then we will 


304 


HY LADY BAREFOOT 


make a thorough examination of the whole 
place. As for you, Jean, will you stay here ? 
Or go to my house with Job ?” 

Let me stay ! Oh ! Let me stay 

‘‘ Certainly, if you are well enough. This is 
no place for fainting girls !” 

I shall not faint again. I did not — 
really.^’ 

‘‘All right. Off with you. Job !” 

Job, who had been compelled to drop the 
paper which had aroused his curiosity, did not 
“ let the grass grow under his feet ’’ as he made 
the distance between the cabin and town — with 
return ; but when he came back half the 
populace was with him. 

At this the Squire frowned, then concluded 
that it was well to let the “ whole world ” know 
whatever he might learn himself. A deputation 
of as many as the cellar would hold went below 
to examine fully into the strange discovery, and 
the coroner took possession of the paper which 
had excited Job’s curiosity. 

This, with its broken English translated into 
readable shape, explained many things, and 
forever set at rest any suspicion against the in- 
nocent. It ran as follows : 


TO WHAT THE KEY LED 


305 


To Whom it may Concern : 

‘‘ I, Bartolome Rizo, am dying like a rat in a 
trap, caught in my own sin. I here confess and 
hope for pardon for all my crime. I did go to 
the house of an old man. I was cold and 
hungry. A boy did refuse me food. He laughed 
in my face, and I hate him. I saw him hang a 
jacket in the shed and I took it. I also took his 
axe he put in the tool-house. Then I looked 
through the window and I saw the old man 
with the white hair put a lot of money in his 
pocket. It made me crazy. I was so poor — 
and he so rich. Things are not right in this 
world, else he would not now be in his grave, or 
I in mine. 

“ AVith the warm jacket on my back and 
the sharp axe in my hand I followed him. I 
saw him take in his carriage a fair-haired 
madonna. He drove a long way. I lost sight 
of the girl, but I had seen the white-haired man 
go into an old cabin on the mountain. Ah, ha ! 
that was where the miser lived of whom the 
village urchins talked. I would then do a 
double stroke of work. The white-haired man 
and the miser must be one, I thought. He lived 
in two houses — that was all ! I watched till he 


306 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


came out of tlie cabin in the night darkness, and 
I killed him in the gulf. Then I was afraid 
with a great fear, so I hid till daylight. Then I 
thought I would gather up my courage and get 
the gold of the miser I had killed. At the door 
the madonna met me again, but I knew her for 
mortal. She had a key in her hand and I 
snatched it. I went in— and there — he lay — 
another dead man ! He fell to the floor. I was 
frightened awfully, and I ran away. I hid all 
day on the mountain. 

The next night I had regained my courage. 
Be no longer a fool, I told myself. The dead 
do nobody harm. That was a lie ; the dead do 
harm. They have trapped me here — also — to 
die ! I saw two girls in the wood, and one was 
my madonna. One was quite different. They 
had food — such good, good food ! I stole the 
food in the bag. The dark-eyed girl awoke and 
saw me. We looked at one another, and if she 
had moved or screamed I would have killed 
them also. I had outgrown pity. But she 
never moved. She only gazed at me as an angel 
might gaze upon sin. I took the bag and ran 
to the cottage. I opened the trap-door — which I 
found after a long time. I did not take the key 


TO WHAT THE KEY LED 


307 


from the lock, and — my God ! The door flew 
back into its place. It is fastened by a terrible 
spring. I had brought a piece of candle, and I 
have toiled, toiled, toiled to escape, but I can- 
not ! I am going to die here. I will write, I 
have written — there is heaps of gold in this 
vault — I have seen it — it is not for me — the 
candle — my head — oh ! It is the end — I — ” 

The narrative broke off thus incoherently. 
Evidently, as long as the candle lasted the im- 
prisoned wretch had written, at his task — 
prompted by remorse, or at his amusement lest 
his brain should turnf. When its reading had 
been finished, the Squire turned to Jean and 
found that strange young person in tears. 

Well, what ? Are you not perfectly de- 
lighted to have all this trouble explained 

‘‘ Oh, it is so dreadful ! So dreadful. To 
think of any creature dying so — so sinful and 
unhappy !” 

The Squire’s face grew stern. Think 
of an innocent man done to his death 
by such a villain I Let your pity be tempered 
with justice !” 

With a renewed shudder Lady Barefoot raised 


308 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


her head. To the j)rison, then, I am going at 
once to tell poor Peterkin what will be good 
news to him And before they could stop her 
she had bounded away and toward the primitive 
jail where her only enemy was then confined, 
but to which, without a warrant, the jailer would 
grant her no admittance. 

No matter. You cannot stop his ears ! 
Which is the place?” and she glanced upward 
toward the cruel, barred windows with the eager- 
ness of hope and rescue in her lovely face. 

That one. He will not hear you.” 

He shall hear me ! Peterkin ! Peterkin ! 
Look out ! Listen !” 

A wan countenance was pressed against the 
sash. Who called him, with the voice of 
triumph and the face of an angel ? 

Peterkin, you are saved. You will be free ! 
The murderer is found. Free, free — dear 
Peterkin !” 

Thus did a noble heart requite a base one. 


CHAPTEE XXVI 


CONCLUSION MORE WONDERFUL THAN FICTION 

‘‘ Yes/’ said Jerry Jones, to the group of boys 
gathered about him on the old stone bridge, 
where he was first introduced to the reader ; 
‘‘ yes, it’s miles ahead of any fairy story I ever 
read !” 

‘‘An’ my father says, ‘ life’s allays funnier 
’an books,’ though I never ’lowed ter hear 
nothin’ like this here afore. An’ ter think she 
is the very same girl we used to laugh at an’ 
call Lady Barefoot. I can’t hardly believe it’s 
true.” 

“ But it is true, Jim Saxton ; an’ I’m real glad 
for her. So there !” 

“You allays was a silly feller.” 

“ I never !” denied Jim, with prompt indig- 
nation ; “ and I’ll leave it to all the other fellows 
if it isn’t splendid.” 


309 


310 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


Tell it over, Jim,” requested a new-comer, 
as he joined the group, and nothing loath to air 
his superior knowledge — for wasn’t Jim’s father 
the sheriff? and didn’t he know all about every- 
thing which went on in the community ? Noth- 
ing loath, therefore, Jim began : 

First and foremost, they was more diamonds 
and rubies and other precious stones found in 
that cellar than ever was seen in one pile in 
the whole world.” 

‘‘ Stuff!” 

No stuff, either ! My father says that when 
old miser Wilder came here he was ‘ sick of life,’ 
whatever that kind of sickness is. He had been 
disappointed in a good many things, and he had 
nobody belonging to him except one little grand- 
daughter, Lady Barefoot. He made up his 
mind to go away somewheres, where nobody 
would ever see them much, and bring her up 
without knowing anything. He was such an 
old fool that he thought going to school and 
learning made folks wicked, and — ” 

I — don’t think he was sucK a fool for that,” 
objected Jerry, warmly. 

Course not. Everybody knows you’re one, 
and the biggest dunce in the whole class I” with 


CONCLUSION 


311 


which little exchange of schoolboy amenities, 
the narrator resumed. 

‘‘ And so he sold all he had of other stuff, 
houses and lands and horses and cattle — 

“ Draw it mild, Jim ! That sounds like the 
parson reading out of Scripture.’’ 

“And cattle,” continued the imperturbable 
James, “ and changed ’em into diamonds and 
rubies and — ” 

“ You’ve said that once.” 

“ And besides them, there was a awful lot of 
money. Some in ‘ deeds ’ and ^ dockyments ’ 
and ‘ mortgages,’ and so on. My ! If that 
Italian murderer hadn’t got ketched in the trap 
like he was, wouldn’t he have made a haul ?” 

“ Well, he was ketched.” 

“ Yep, he was. An’ so that cleared Peterkin 
Rideout. An’ he and his folks have moved 
away. And — ” 

“ Where’s Lady Barefoot, Jim ?” 

“ Don’t you say that no more. My father 
wolloped me for doing it myself, and I’m not 
going to have any of youse do what I dassent 
do. So there. You hear me?” 

“Yep, I hear. But I — don’t fear. Go 


on. 


312 


MY LADY BAKEFOOT 


^‘And Miss Jean Montgomery Wilder is 
a-going to buy Doctor Disney’s old home. 
There are lots of squirrel houses and dove-cotes 
and aviaries and — and — things — that just suit 
her. My father says she is bound to be one 
of the best naturalists in the country. That 
her taste runs that way.” 

‘‘ Is she a-going to live there alone ?” 

No, she ain’t a-going to live there alone, 
neither. Her Aunt Emily is a-going to come and 
live with her, and there is an old actress-woman, 
richer ’an Croesus, that’s a-coming to live there, 
too. Her name is like a cape or a strait or 
sound or something. Oh, I remember ; ‘ D’Al- 
bemarle.’ She has a girl that was poor, too, 
and a friend of Jean Wilder’s that the old play- 
actress is a-having teached to make a young 
play-actress out of. And she’s a-going to build 
the biggest kind of a house here in Chelsea 
town, and my father says a good thing for the 
village, too. And up there where the dead man 
was found, where nobody wants to live now 
very much that knows about it, the old Squire 
is a-going to build a ‘ Fresh Air Fund.’ No, 
that don’t sound right ; I guess I mean a ‘ Fresh 
Air House.’ But it’s a place where a lot of 


CONCLUSION 


313 


poor children who don’t have any folks to take 
care of ’em, can come and live with a lot of 
women who don’t have any children of their 
own to take care of. That’s as near as I know. 
But my father says it’s a good thing for Chelsea. 
And whatever money they don’t have — I mean 
the Squire don’t have — the Wilder girl and the 
play-actress woman are a-going to give. And 
— what do you think ?” 

I dunno. What ?” 

‘‘That squirrel of La — I mean of Jean 
Wilder’s, is a-going to have a beautiful brass 
house all lined with wool and things and be the 
regular king of all the squirrels that ever 
was.” 

“ My !” 

“ Jimminy !” 

“ Don’t I wish I was rich and had a grand- 
father that had a cellar and — is that all ?” 

“ That is all ; isn’t it enough ?” 

“ Yep. I s’pose so. Only — ” 

“ What ?” 

“Only one thing.” 

“Well, what?” 

“ I’ve been a puzzling it out o’ nights, when 
my folks think I’m asleep. My father says I’m 


814 


MY LADY BAREFOOT 


going to be a lawyer, IVe got such a head for 
puzzling ’bout things.” 

A shout of derision greeted this ambitious 
declaration of Jerry Jones. 

Wull — wull — wull, you needn’t laugh. I’m 
like Daniel Webster, my father says, in one 
thing.” 

I should like to know in what ?” 

He wasn’t very smart when he was a boy, 
and I ain’t.” 

‘^Hi! hi! Hear!” 

All the same, where did that Italianer get 
that piece of paper and that pencil to write that 
long letter on, what was printed offen his copy 
in the ‘ Chelsea Trumpet ?’ That beats me, 
more’ll the rubies an’ such. It’s like a story 
book for having things handy in, and — ” 

“ Pooh ! Old miser Wilder had a desk and 
a whole lot of paper an’ writin’ stuff in that 
vault. It was where they found all the ‘deeds ’ 
and ‘ dockyments ’ and ‘ things.’ ” 

“Oh!” 

“ I hope you’re satisfied now ! I hope you 
have heard all the ins and outs of the whole 
business.” 

“ Yep. I am satisfied. I shall sleep to-night.” , 


CONCLUSION 


315 


‘‘ Then let^s go into the woods and see if we 
can’t get some squirrels. If we do we can sell 
’em to La — , I mean, Miss Wilder. Here she 
comes, now, a-riding in her carriage — that 
Lady Barefoot !” 


THE END 



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